


Sufferance

by MacTire



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bede x Hop, CheeryFairyShipping, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Hop x Bede, Hop/Gloria/Bede are 21, M/M, Slow Burn, Sonia/Leon are 28/29, not sure exactly where this will take us tbh but let's enjoy the ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacTire/pseuds/MacTire
Summary: (noun) the absence of objection rather than genuine approval; toleration.7 years after the events of Sword/Shield, Gym Leader Bede comes to Postwick to conduct some research in the Slumbering Weald; Hop is his unwilling companion.
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Hop
Comments: 35
Kudos: 88





	1. One

Hop couldn't concentrate today.

It might have been the pleasant spring sun, filtering in through the window and bouncing off the laminated pages he was pursuing, compelling him to turn his attention to the window. The heat and the amusing scene of the frolicking Wooloo in the fields did a fine job of keeping his attention on anything but his work.

It also might have been the anticipation. Every now and then his gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. Gloria had a match today - only an exhibition one - but Hop always exulted in the prospect of watching her live. It was now 12:45 - the matches were due to start at 1 - he would take his lunch then and sit out in the grass in front of the lab to watch on his laptop.

He got up from his chair and shielded his eyes to peer at Sonia rifling through the shelves on the balcony above. Her back was to him and her humming as she concentrated was a soothing and familiar melody. It was hard to believe it had been 7 years since he had started working with her; they had fallen into a comfortable synchronicity so quickly there had barely been an adjustment period, and it was very early on in their professional relationship that Hop had felt he had been there forever.

"Sonia?" he called. Sonia's red ponytail bobbed as she snapped to attention, and she stood to come and peer over the railing at him.

"Hey Hop," she replied with a smile. "Everything alright?"

Hop grinned back. "Grand." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I was just letting you know I'm gonna take lunch in a few? Gloria has a tournament starting at 1 and I don't want to miss it - if I'm not there to take a call at the end and discuss every single detail she'll go spare." His grin widened at the memory of once having missed a tournament because himself and Sonia were out in the Wild Area on a work project. There was no signal out there, and Hop had forgotten to tell Gloria he would be away (of course he had the tournament recording for his return.) He had come back to Wedgehurst with 5 missed calls, several texts, and a disgruntled selfie asking whether he had died.

"Oh, wonderful! She has matches today?" Sonia threw up her hands in jubilation; to Hop's immense relief, she was not holding a book. "I would love to watch, too. It's been ages since I've settled in to watch a tournament and Nessa is always griping I never get round to watching any of her matches." Her smile became coy. "What do you say to taking an extended break and watching on a laptop in the garden? I can make some ice tea."

Hop nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds like a plan! I'll get the stream up and running." Sonia, to many people's surprise, had never had to be strict with Hop. Despite his reputation for impulsiveness and general air of chaos, he was focused and determined about things he had a passion for. Studiousness and discipline were two traits integral to a successful Pokémon Professor and not ones Hop was famed for, but he had proved himself with his diligence from the start. Hop did not always follow a straight line from A to B, but even with his many stops and detours along the way he almost always managed to produce work to a high standard. But Sonia had known this long before the day she had asked him to come on board as her assistant.

Hop grabbed his laptop from the gleaming countertop and made his way outside with a skip in his step, pausing only to pet Yamper who had weaved excitedly between his legs. It was difficult not to be in a good mood: the sun was shining, work was not too busy for him to steal some downtime, and he was about to settle in for an afternoon of quality battles. Even if he did not do so much of it himself anymore, his interest had not been quelled in the slightest. Gloria on the field was poetry in motion, and a fantastic learning opportunity – watching her direct her partners was a fully immersive lesson in how to draw out Pokémon’s full potential via flawless strategy and iron-clad bonds of trust. Hop set the laptop down on the garden table out back and opened the umbrella before settling down to bring up the livestream of the tournament. Sonia emerged a couple of minutes later, balancing a tray carrying a jug of peach ice tea and two glasses. Yamper trotted after her obediently, careful to avoid getting in the way. Once she had set the tray down and taken her seat, Yamper leapt into her lap as Sonia laughingly scratched behind her ears. “Learned your lesson after years of close calls involving mugs of tea, eh?” she cooed, and Yamper barked happily while Hop chuckled. “You’re not the only one, Yamper. Only recently, despite years of having being told, have I discovered the true perils of running indoors, especially in a tea-laden Sonia’s vicinity.”

They both laughed, then, and Sonia poured the ice tea as Hop hit play. The announcer’s voice crackled and boomed over the laptop speakers, and Hop felt the familiar adrenalin rush course through him as the camera panned over the pitch. There were not many big names in the tournament today – just Gloria, Nessa and some random challengers. Gloria would make short work of them all, Hop had no doubt. Although he didn’t dare comment as such in front of Sonia.

First up were two of the random challengers –a young woman and an older gentleman. Hop and Sonia mostly chatted among themselves for the span of that battle, Yamper interjecting occasionally to demand one of the treats hidden in Sonia’s pockets. Hop watched from the corner of his eye as the young woman’s Manectric decimated the opponent’s Blastoise with a wicked Thunderbolt. “Solid,” he remarked, and Sonia looked up from checking her phone. “Mhmm,” she replied, sipping some ice tea. “Who’s up next?”

“Gloria and a challenger.” As he spoke, Hop had gotten out his own phone to shoot Gloria a quick ‘good luck’ text – not that she would need it, or even see it until the tournament was over. But, still – he wanted her to know he was thinking of her.

Gloria strolled out on the pitch as her number, 37, flashed up on the huge monitor behind her. Despite an occasional wave and smile to the roaring crowd her gaze was set ahead, eyes gleaming with steely determination. It had been 7 years since she had taken Leon’s place as Champion, but Hop had never quite gotten over the scale of the difference between them as battlers, both in style and presence on the pitch. Leon had been so flashy, posing and swishing his cape and blowing kisses, hamming it to the max. Gloria, regardless of who her opponent was, always stepped up with an air of aloofness to the crowd, her attention solely on the match before her. Hop always wondered if Rose’s presence and lack thereof during Gloria's reign had anything to do with that, but Leon never brought him up. Hop never asked.

He was pulled away from his thoughts by Sonia clapping excitedly as Gloria let out Saber, her Haxorus, to face her opponent’s Beartic. The camera panned over the man’s face for a moment and Hop noted a smug smile tracing his features. From the perspective of an untrained eye, it would appear as though he had an advantage. But Hop knew better – Gloria would make short work of him and not have to withdraw a single Pokémon.

Indeed, Saber demolished the Beartic with a single, well-aimed Close Combat move and the rest of the match flew by in a similar fashion. Hop couldn’t help but smile at Sonia’s rapt attention, her eyes fixed on the screen as she petted Yamper absentmindedly. It was easy to forget that Sonia had once been a fine battler, a rival even to Leon – Hop always meant to ask her if she ever missed it.

Gloria withdrew Saber and bowed with a flourish as the match ended. She crossed the field to shake her crestfallen opponent’s hand, and that was the last they saw before the pitch darkened again in preparation for the next battle. Sonia leaned back as the ad break started, her eyes shining. “My gosh, that was thrilling!” she remarked. “I really do need to try and watch these more often – that poor fellow couldn’t get a move in edgeways!”

“That’s Gloria,” replied Hop happily. He took a gulp of ice tea, as though it had just been him out working up a sweat. “She’s in a league of her own. The more I watch her, the more vindicated I feel in not being able to match her in battle – can definitely see her holding the title even longer than Leon did!” There was a smile on his face as he spoke, but Sonia’s gaze became pitying. 

“Don’t say that.” She avoided meeting his eyes to look down at Yamper, who was now dozing peacefully in her lap. “About yourself, I mean. Being good with Pokémon isn’t all about battling.”

Hop fought the urge to scowl. “I know that.” Even after all this time, people seemed so delicate around in him relation to Gloria and her success. Gloria was his best friend, and he had let go the dream of defeating Leon and becoming Champion a long time ago. He knew Sonia didn’t appreciate when he was self-deprecating – because, she said, she valued his input and effort so much here with her. But it annoyed Hop that people seemed to think they would hurt his feelings if they joked about it with him: he wanted so badly to be rid of that legacy of being second-best to Gloria in the Gym Challenge. He walked a different path, now, one less glitzy but fulfilling and important all the same. They were silent as the show returned and the commentator announced Nessa and another challenger were up to bat. Hop’s temporary irritation dissipated as he watched Sonia zap to attention. Nessa was her best friend – Hop suspected she might be more. As he spent most of his days with Sonia, he was privy to details of her life that many others were not: even then, he wasn’t completely sure. But he knew what he saw. He observed them together whenever Nessa came to visit, or whenever Sonia returned from hanging out with her. She always spent the rest of the evening with cheeks flushed with happiness, texting constantly. It was nice to see.

Nessa defeated the challenger with ease, and before long it was the final.

Any air of disquiet that might have remained between them was chased away entirely when the announcement rang out that the final match between Nessa and Gloria was about to begin. Hop leaned forward in his chair, near vibrating with excitement. Sonia, too, was tensed eagerly as both combatants waved to the camera with the assured ease of those used to the eyes of the world being upon them. They crossed to the centre of the pitch to shake hands, keeping in line with the finalists’ tradition, then turned to take their places. Both of their gaits were stilted with determination, gazes set firmly ahead.

As Hop had predicted, it didn’t take long. Nessa was a fine trainer indeed, but still, like all of them, was nowhere near Gloria’s level. Gloria was well-prepared with her Bolthund, Lassie, and took down Nessa’s team with one well-aimed electric attack after another. Lassie moved as though she were an extension of Gloria herself, striking with precision in time with each of Gloria’s commands. Sonia raised a hand to cover her mouth as Nessa’s dynamaxed Drednaw came down in an explosion of light, and Gloria and Lassie celebrated in its wake.

“Ohhh,” the sound escaped Sonia in a long exhale. “Poor Nessa.” She shook her head. “I suppose we can’t be surprised though really, can we?” She chuckled. “Wow. I really enjoyed that! Be sure to wrangle me in next time there’s another tournament on. Nessa would be incredibly chuffed if I got into watching her matches more.”

“Would be my pleasure,” Hop replied cheerily. It had been fun to watch with Sonia – perhaps a few more matches and she would open up about her past rivalry with Leon. He would have loved to see her measured, cerebral approach applied on the battlefield. He stood, fingering his phone in his pocket, and Sonia grinned at him. “Off to make a call?” she asked.

“If you don’t mind.” His eyes drifted to watch the screen go dark as the commentator was signing off. “Need to get to unpacking what we’ve just seen, the usual.”

Sonia nodded and stood with her slumbering Yamper clasped to her chest. “Of course.” She turned towards the back door that was, thankfully, slightly ajar. “Send my best!”

“Always do,” Hop shot back, already turning to dial. He strolled over to the back wall and leaned over it, arm dangling over the side. Gloria answered on the second ring, breathless and slightly echoey in the changing room. “Hop!” she cried. “Thanks for the text!”

Hop laughed quietly. “You’re welcome. Not like you needed it.” He turned his eyes towards the sky. “Great match! The last one especially – Nessa’s going to have to employ more than a half-ground type as her wildcard to get anywhere near you.”

“Ah, she’s amazing.” Hop could clearly picture the self-effacing wave of her hand. “It’s always a pleasure to battle her. All the leaders have their own quirks and eccentricities – the fun is in figuring them out and how to get round them.”

Hop nodded. “Yeah,” he said, when he realised she couldn’t see that. “Like a puzzle. You’d think I’d have been better at it.” They both laughed, and Hop felt himself relax. It was so _easy_ with her.

“Anyway,” she continued. “We’ll be getting in at around 8:30 – you’ll be there to meet us, won’t you?”

Hop froze. “Meet you? Where? Who’s we?” he asked.

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “Um, myself and Bede? At the station?” She ventured at last. “We’ll be in Postwick tonight?”

“I’m sorry, _what?”_ Hop took the phone away from his ear to speak directly into the microphone on the top. “What are you on about?”

“Oh wow.” Gloria cleared her throat. “Uh, okay – I figured you already knew, because Bede got onto Sonia first? But he’s coming to our neck of the woods to do some study about Fairy-types in the Slumbering Weald for a month or so, and he asked Sonia to help out with resources and stuff? He got in touch a couple of weeks ago.”

Hop was stunned into silence for a long moment, head spinning. Bede, _here?_ In Postwick – in the Slumbering Weald himself and Gloria held so dear? His relationship with the fellow was complicated; they had managed to leave the past behind them to the extent that Hop didn’t pull a face at the mere sight of him anymore. Bede and Gloria were close friends – or as close as one could be to Bede – and so Hop often ended up spending more time with him than he ever would have of his own volition. Hop could manage that; could manage having a drink with him in a group of three or four and not going for the jugular when he said something arrogant or disparaging. He didn’t know if he could manage weeks with him one-on-one, watching him traipse around his hometown and poking into the secrets of the Slumbering Weald.

“Hop?” he was startled back to reality by Gloria, sounding a little concerned now. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, like I said it’s something I assumed Sonia would have mentioned and it just never came up. He’s staying with my mum – we have a spare room and she’s always delighted to have company, so it’s not like he’ll be hanging around Wedgehurst in the evenings or anything.” Luckily, Hop no longer lived with his mother in Postwick; while he worked only just up the road from his childhood home, at 21 and with a full-time job it seemed about time he found a place of his own. He rented a one-bedroom apartment above the now-closed boutique in Wedgehurst. The previous owner had been the little old lady who had also run the shop; when she had grown too frail to live alone she had moved out to live with her daughter in Motostoke. The family had been happy to rent her previous lodgings to Hop at a reasonable price, him being a local they had known for years. The apartment was small, with only two rooms - a living room-cum-kitchen and a bedroom - and somewhat old-fashioned, with a deep red shag carpet and wooden panelling in the front room, but Hop loved the place. He had made it his own, with his faded Pokémon League posters on the walls and Wooloo-patterned bedding on the rickety single bed. It was home.

“Hop?” Gloria asked again, and Hop shook his head. He could be professional about this – if Bede was coming to study the Slumbering Weald, this was work for him. As long as they didn’t stray too far outside that scope they would be alright. He could do it, for Gloria and for Sonia. 

“Sorry, sorry Gloria,” he replied at last, pressing a hand to his forehead. “It’s fine. Was just a bit taken by surprise, that’s all.” He sighed. “Look, I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect but it’s my job to be civil and help him out, isn’t it? Would be a pretty pants professor if I refused to lend a hand to someone in furthering their knowledge just because they got on my tits a bit, wouldn’t I?” His smile returned as he spoke. Honestly, Bede’s topic of study sounded pretty interesting; he was sure they would have plenty to discuss around it and would have no reason resort to petty squabbling as long as they both remembered why they were there.

“Oh, Hop, thank you.” He could hear the relieved sag of her shoulders in her tone. “You are the best professor ever.”

“Professor’s assistant, at least for now,” he corrected with a small laugh. “You don’t need to thank me, Gloria. I’ll behave myself provided Bede does too.”

“Oh, stop it. Of course he will. He’s a nice guy, you should give him more of a chance.” Hop opened his mouth, his lips forming the shape of a snarled retort, only to sigh instead. _No point getting off on the wrong foot with this._ “Sure,” he responded at last. “Anyway, what’s the plan tonight?”

“Well, we’ll be getting into Wedgehurst at around 8:30,” Gloria replied. “Then I said I would cook dinner at my place? Mum is away until tomorrow – using a package deal I got as a thank you for an endorsement from the Rose Hotel – so I’m going to crash at home with Bede and then head out early in the morning. He’s going to get up with me and head out to the lab to meet with you and Sonia to discuss what he wants to do.” She paused, allowing that to sink in. “Sorry I can’t stick around longer. Busy, busy.”

“Nah, sure what would you be doing? I get it.” He had to smile at her apologetic tone – he knew if she could stay and supervise to ensure they made an effort to get along, she absolutely would. Hop knew she would love if he and Bede were to become friends – perhaps this was fate.

“Anyway,” Gloria broke the silence, obviously aware Hop had drifted into his own thoughts again. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Hop replied. “See you tonight.”

***

The sun was just beginning to set when Hop headed out to the station. It was always a breathtaking sight, the rolling hills of Wedgehurst and Postwick dark blotches against the majesty of the glowing pink-orange sky. Hop paused to observe it, hands jammed in his pockets. Just down the hill he could make out the neon lights of the station glowing ominously, lying in wait. He shivered, in both the cool evening breeze and anticipation of what was to come, and pulled out his phone to check the time – 20:24. No point being late, he would only be delaying the inevitable and invoking Gloria’s wrath. He had even gotten off from work early – he suspected Sonia felt guilty for forgetting that his former nemesis would be around town for a few weeks starting tomorrow. She had been so flustered when he had told her. She had been so busy when he had called, she’d said, and once the conversation had finished her promise had gone right out of head. Hop had been magnanimous: he had had time to accept that it was happening and there was nothing that could be done. He was determined to be mature about the whole thing. 

As he made his way down the cobblestone street, he could see the lights of the train approaching in the distance. He was struck with the picture of Gloria and Bede sitting opposite one another, chatting and showing each other stupid shite on their phones, the same way himself and Gloria had so very long ago on that first trip to Motostoke. He ground his teeth together, annoyed at the prick of jealousy that accompanied that image. _Don’t be stupid._ Bede’s friendship with Gloria would never be as deep as the bond Hop and her shared. Getting territorial would not prove a warm welcome.

He headed into the swinging gates at the entrance just at the train pulled up to the platform. The station was fairly empty, as always, save for the handful of people waiting in the reception area. Passengers trickled out, into the arms of loved ones or hurrying on their respective ways. Hop strained until he caught sight of a flash of white-blond. He barely had time to register it as Bede before Gloria was in his line of vision, waving wildly before careening into his arms.

“Hey Gloria,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around her. The moment was so supremely normal that for a second, he forgot completely about the bizarre situation he was in and just enjoyed holding his best friend.

That couldn’t last, however, and eventually he had to release her and step back to regard Bede lingering behind her. Even when not bound to his gym uniform, he tended towards pink – Opal’s legacy, Hop supposed. Tonight, he donned a rose-coloured jumper and pale blue jeans, his long, white-blond hair brushed back into a loose ponytail. The single diamond earring he wore, dangling on a golden chain, glimmered in the fluorescent lighting of the station interior. Hop realised with a jolt he had not even begun to consider how stark and _strange_ Bede would appear against the pastel greens and greys of his hometown. He was surreal, an accidental splotch of electric pink on a careless artist’s quaint countryside watercolour.

“Hop.” Bede moved forward, his hand extended in greeting. Hop shook himself from his reverie to grasp it, careful to meet Bede’s eyes and ignore Gloria’s stern look.

“Hiya, Bede,” he replied, shaking his hand before returning his own to his pockets. “Good… good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bede’s lip curled, as though enjoying some private joke, and Hop had to bite back a snide retort. _Give him a chance._ Like he hadn’t given him ample chances already – it had been 7 years, and Hop was still unable to warm to him. That had to mean something. They stood for a moment, sizing each other up, before Gloria took Bede’s arm and gestured towards the doorway with her free hand.

“Come on you two,” she insisted, tugging on Bede’s sleeve. “I don’t know about you Bede, but I’m beat. Let’s get some food on and settle in.”

Bede smiled angelically back at her. “Sounds heavenly.” Hop supressed the urge to roll his eyes at that contrived posh accent and dug his hands deeper into his pockets to trail after them towards Postwick.

It was going to be a long month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Still reeling I actually started this, so out of the game with fanfiction it’s unbelievable, haha. Last time I was posting it was on fanfiction.net and author’s notes were still a thing. Anyways – not sure how far into this I’ll get, but will do my best! Updates will be sporadic because I work full-time and am somewhat rusty with fanfiction and writing in general – but I do adore these characters.  
> And yes, the Poké-nicknames are the same ones I use in-game, hehe.  
> Enjoy! Feedback appreciated.


	2. Two

Hop awoke early that morning. When he opened his eyes he lay still for a moment, assessing his condition following the night before. Of course, despite his aversion to the company, Gloria knew how to host a gathering. He had ended up staying later than he'd intended; knowing Gloria, she stockpiled beer to have on standby in case of opportunities such as these. Even with her celebrity status, Hop knew she treasured nothing more than her friends and the time she could spend with them. It was how they had remained so close, and how she hadn’t become unrecognisable following her rise to fame.  
  
He didn't feel too rotten, luckily - just a dryness in his mouth and the faintest of headaches. He padded into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, flicking the lights on as he went. His coat and bag were strewn across the table where he had carelessly flung them on his arrival home, but other than that the space bore no sign of any drunken shenanigans. That was a relief: if Gloria had had her way he would probably still be drinking in her living room. It was simpler for her, he supposed, living the jet-setting life that she did. 

He leaned against the counter as he sipped his water, watching the dawn beginning to break outside. A few stars still clung stubbornly to the pale blue morning sky, but the steady creep of the sun’s rays over the horizon would soon chase them away. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine how today was going to go. Admittedly, the night before had gone far better than Hop had anticipated. He had been on high alert at first, but after a warm meal and a few cans of beer it was difficult to be tetchy. Bede and Gloria had recounted amusing anecdotes of their trip from Ballonlea and Hop had managed to laugh along without the slightest tinge of resentment or jealousy. It was always strange to drink with Bede, to see him pink-cheeked and mirthful, rid of that air of standoffishness that set Hop’s teeth on edge. The three of them drank well into the night, reminiscing all the while, and Hop hazily remembered shuffling home and thinking maybe it would be alright, after all.

But that had been last night, optimistic from the alcohol. Now, in the cold light of day, he was less certain. It was one thing to drink with Bede in Gloria’s living room – it was another entirely to work with him. He sighed and set down the glass to massage his forehead; perhaps he would need to take some painkillers before work after all.

His heart leaped to his mouth at the sudden blare of his alarm from his room. He raced to shut it off, his pulse in his ears. _Why so early?_ It was then he remembered he had agreed to see Gloria off at the station and to meet Bede and take him to the lab. He groaned and flopped back onto his bed. Of course, brimming with goodwill from his fourth can and entirely caught up in the moment, he had agreed to be at the station for 6:30am to meet them. Normally he would have no issue getting up early to see Gloria off – he had done it many times before and would go through a lot more to spend extra time with her – but it would mean he would have an hour and a half to kill with a slightly hungover Bede before Sonia arrived. He felt for his phone on the bedside table and held it up to note the time – 6:02am. He would have time to shower and pull together the semblance of a person who hadn’t been up drinking until 2am the night before, at least.

Twenty minutes later and Hop was up, dressed and on the way out. Briefly, he paused to observe himself in the mirror in the hallway. His hair was damp from the shower, and he hadn’t had time to shave, but other than that looked a picture of professionalism. He adjusted the collar of his shirt self-consciously: was that a stain on his lapel? No, just a shadow. Maybe he should – _what are you doing?_ He scowled back at his reflection. Since when had he cared so much about how he looked for work?

With an irritated shake of his head he took off. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t linger – he was already short on time and didn’t want Gloria to miss her train. He ran down towards the station, noting the duo of dark shapes standing outside. Hop pulled up in front of them a few seconds later, breathless, and bent over for a moment to calm his racing heart. “Morning,” he wheezed. He straightened abruptly, enjoying the invigorating sweep of the frigid air through his hair. No wonder he had used to run everywhere.

Gloria and Bede regarded him, amusement in both their eyes. “Morning Hop,” Gloria replied, moving forward to gather him into a hug. “Glad you made it – we were just wondering if you would manage to surface.” Gloria drew back and must have noted the slight downturn of the corners of Hop’s mouth because she added hurriedly. “Was difficult enough for us.”

Hop laughed and folded his hands behind his head. “Yeah, was touch and go for a while, but I wouldn’t miss my best mate for the world.” He grinned and Gloria smiled back, visibly touched.

“Thanks Hop, you’re the best.” She rearranged her rucksack on her shoulders. “I wish I could hang around longer, I really do. It’s always so lovely to be home and I’d love to be able to show you around Bede.” She rested a hand on his arm. “Next time, I promise. And Hop will be a great host.”

Hop gauged Bede’s reaction carefully. There didn’t appear to be any hint of irony in his smile back at Gloria: in fact, with his halo of pale hair, beneath the glow of the station lights, he appeared positively angelic. “I have no doubt,” he replied, and Hop managed not to frown as he leaned forward to embrace her. “Thanks again for sorting everything with Hannah. I’ll make it up to you both.”

Gloria chuckled. “Oh please, it’s nothing. Like I said Mum is glad of the company – just help her water the plants in the evening and you’ll be golden.” Hop managed to laugh along with them both but seethed internally at Hannah’s name coming so casually from Bede’s lips. Since when had he been on a first name basis with Gloria’s mother? He was interrupted from dwelling on this brief pang of irritation by the station speakers crackling to life, announcing that the 6:30am service to Hammerlocke was due for departure.

“Bye you two!” Gloria sounded genuinely sorrowful as she backed towards the platform, waving until she had to turn around and jog onto the train. Bede and Hop waved back until the doors closed and the train pulled away. For a long moment afterwards they stood in silence, watching the lights fading into the encroaching dawn. Hop wondered if Bede was contemplating the same as himself: that they would have to make their own conversation, now.

Eventually, Hop cleared his throat. “Well,” he said at last. “Sonia should be in the lab at around 8am, so we have an hour and a half to kill.” He glanced at Bede, who was still staring pensively into the distance. “Anything you fancy doing? Honestly I could probably show you most of the sights of Wedgehurst and Postwick in that time and still have some to spare.”

Bede pursed his lips, and glanced at that ostentatious golden watch of his. It was as oversized on him as it had been seven years ago, and slid up his arm with the slightest of movements. “I hadn’t really given it much thought, I suppose,” he replied. “I think I’d rather save the tour for a time when it’s not ridiculous o’clock in the morning and I’m not slightly sleep-deprived. Why don’t we just grab a coffee?”

Hop burst out laughing, and it was only when he met Bede’s bewildered gaze he realised he hadn’t been joking. “Grab a coffee?” he spluttered. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, mate, but you’re in the arse-end of Galar here. You’re a good 40 miles out of ‘grabbing a coffee’ territory.”

Bede scowled. “Alright, sorry I’m not familiar with your ‘arse-end of Galar’ sensibilities,” he huffed. “What do you suggest, then? Go and nap in the fields with the Wooloo for an hour?”

Hop couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, with the amount of sleep I’ve had, that sounds like a great plan.” He rolled his shoulders, considering. “If it’s coffee you’re after, though, let’s just head to the lab. There’s a kitchen and I’m sure Sonia has a jar of instant squirreled away somewhere.”

Bede sniffed. “Fine,” he replied, a slight edge to his tone. It seemed Hop had managed to offend him already; they had been alone what, five minutes? If Gloria were still there she would have punched him.

Instead, Hop chose to ignore Bede’s obvious annoyance and strolled past him. He indicated Bede should follow with a twitch of his head; Bede paused for a moment, reluctant to react to what was a tacit command, before trailing after him.

They walked in silence until they arrived at the lab. Hop withdrew the key from his coat pocket and moved to unlock the door. He held it open for Bede, who gave him a long look before going inside. Hop closed it after them, flicked on the lights, and watched smilingly as Bede looked around in unbridled awe. It was an impressive establishment, all gleaming countertops and pristine equipment. Bede moved past Hop to press a tentative hand to the towering glass wall, enraptured by the dance of the morning light across its surface. Hop watched him for a moment. He had never seen him so… unguarded, the shine of the glass reflected in his oddly-coloured eyes. In a purely aesthetic sense Bede was… sort of beautiful, he supposed. Ethereal and untouchable, like a statue in a museum.

Hop shook himself and straightened instinctively when Bede turned to face him. “Coffee?” he asked, and Bede nodded. Hop made a beeline for the door in the back that led to the kitchen. He bustled around the small space, busying himself with the familiar motions in order to distract himself from his inexplicably racing heart. In all their years of sufferance, that was by far the most intimate moment they had ever shared. A few seconds later Bede came to linger in the entryway. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“Pretty impressive setup you have here,” he remarked. His tone was causal, expression conveying none of the wonder it had before. “I had thought it would be smaller.”

Hop frowned into the mugs he was pouring. He was almost grateful for the familiar bite of exasperation that accompanied that comment – he could deal with that. “Well, yeah, it is the central hub for Pokémon research in the Galar region,” he replied curtly. “What were you expecting? A barn?”

Bede raised an eyebrow. “Calm down, I was just saying.” He stepped back so Hop could hand him a mug as they both moved back into the lab. “I pictured more storybook red-brick as opposed to sleek marble and glass, that’s all.”

Hop didn’t dignify that with a response. As much as he enjoyed sniping at Bede, they couldn’t be at each other's throats all the time or they would surely be driven to insanity. Or at least he would – he was convinced Bede thrived on being as contrary as possible. Instead, he walked over to the main monitor and powered it on; might as well get set up for the day ahead.

“So what was it exactly you’re here to look at?” he asked, his eyes steadfastly on the screen. “I think you mentioned it last night but I’ve forgotten.”

“Ah, continuing something Opal looked into years back.” Bede leaned back on his hands that were resting on the countertop. “Herself and Magnolia established that Weezing’s Galar forme first adopted its Fairy-type in the Slumbering Weald. So, there’s reason to believe there is something particular about it that is accommodating to Fairy-types. It’s the most similar spot to the Glimwood Tangle in all of Galar environment-wise.” Hop nodded slowly as Bede continued. “So, is just a matter of having a snoop around. Or rather, an educated snoop around – figure out what aspect of both places is attractive to Fairy-types, be it environmental or otherwise.”

Admittedly, it did sound like an intriguing study. Almost interesting enough that Hop was less bothered about the idea of Bede poking around the Slumbering Weald. “Hm, definitely something worth looking into,” Hop replied after a moment. He got to his feet to jog up to the balcony. “Might be a good start to have a look at the physical attributes of different Fairy-type species: their physiology, diet, etcetera,” he called down, pulling a few titles from the shelves. “At least, that’s something we can do while we’re waiting.”

Hop could feel Bede’s gaze on him as he made his way slowly back down the stairs, balancing the books he had selected on his outstretched arms. He smugly noted the faint look of admiration in the other boy’s eyes. “Sure, sounds good.” He folded his arms and regarded Hop with a tilt of his head. “You know your stuff.”

“Haven’t just been sitting on my arse the last seven years,” Hop shot back cheerily, laying the books out before them. “Let’s make some notes.”

***

A few hours later, and Hop and Bede were on their way to the Slumbering Weald.

The rest of the morning had gone by in a blur – once they were silent and immersed in study, time passed much more quickly. Sonia had arrived at 8am on the dot, impressed by the sight of their noses already buried in books. Hop opted not to mention they were functioning on just about four hours sleep because they had been up drinking the night before.

Once the introductions had been made and Sonia briefed more thoroughly on Bede’s research, she had set them up with equipment and sent them on their way, promising to contribute as much as she could in between her regular duties. Hop, with his impression of Bede forever coloured by their rivalry in the past, wondered how he came off to people meeting him for the first time. He was such a gentleman now, all polite smiles and impeccable manners – so different to the brash, arrogant so-and-so he had been before. Hop could tell Sonia was impressed, by both his scientific curiosity and affability (in that order.) Hop remained unconvinced.

Hop pushed the gate that led to the forest path. It swung open easily, the lock having long rusted beyond use. Hop didn’t think it had ever been fixed from that first day of his and Gloria’s journey, and he was glad. It was nice to have it there – a physical reminder of the start of his life with Pokémon. Bede came through and Hop shut the gate after them. He let Bede lead as they passed into the shadow of the trees, both blinking as their eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. “S’cold,” Bede remarked, pausing for a moment to rub some heat back into his skinny arms. “Colder than Glimwood.”

“Hence the fog,” Hop replied, taking advantage of the break to rearrange the bags of equipment he was carrying. “Must be a different type of tree here – more effective at blocking out the sunlight. Something to take note of!” He grinned. “Let’s go a little further in, then set up shop. It’ll only be some preliminary stuff we’re looking at today anyway.”

“Fine with me.” Bede straightened and gave Hop a little nod. “Astute observation. About the trees, I mean.”

“It is kind of my job.” Hop resumed walking. He didn’t have the patience to wait for a response: he was sure Bede had been gearing up to say something cutting. They wandered further into the wood. Hop noticed Bede had begun to shiver but declined to comment. Let him bring a scarf tomorrow.

They found a spot to set up eventually and busied themselves with their work. As Hop had pointed out, today was only the beginning. They had set themselves the task of gathering samples from the environment – the soil, the trees, the berries, anything else they could find, and potting them to take back and compare with samples Bede had brought from Glimwood. They toiled away in silence, speaking only to comment upon findings or compare notes. It was surprisingly companionable, and not at all as unbearable as Hop had imagined. Bede was focused; every time Hop threw him a glance his features were furrowed with concentration. Hop realised at that moment it was only now, watching Bede work, that he fully believed he was here to actually study and it was in fact not a well-constructed ruse to infringe on the life Hop had built and drive him to insanity. That was a relief, at least.

Eventually, Hop got around to checking the time. He balked at the numbers glowing back at him – when had it become 4:30? He stretched, muscles aching from having spent the day on his knees. “Ready to head back?” he asked. Bede was sprawled on the forest floor as though it were his bedroom carpet, scribbling away. He looked up at the sound of Hop’s voice and straightened to glance at his watch. “Gosh.” He shook some dirt from his sleeve. “The day went quickly.”

“Yeah, nothing better than a new project to make the most of a day,” Hop replied cheerfully. Distracted by his good mood, he unthinkingly offered Bede a hand. For a split second Bede stared at it as though it had teeth. In that instant, Hop considered pulling it back and pretending it had never happened. Before he knew it, however, Bede’s hand was in his. Hop pulled him to his feet, noting how incredibly light he was. Once up, Bede let go right away and they hurriedly turned from each other to brush themselves down. “Thanks,” mumbled Bede. Hop grunted noncommittally in response and busied himself with collecting the equipment. Bede watched him for a moment, fiddling with his earring, before silently joining Hop in gathering their belongings. Hop’s cheeks were flushed with annoyance at himself – it was no good to be letting his guard down too soon. Today had been a good day, but he couldn’t allow himself to become complacent. He was still a long way off trusting Bede an inch.

They headed back towards Wedgehurst unspeaking. Hop was relieved they were both too tired to attempt to abide by social convention and make small talk. He wanted nothing more than to be out of these dirty clothes and curl up on his couch, to liberate himself of the strange atmosphere that hung like a shroud over the pair. Whenever he glanced at Bede it was evident his companion was lost in thought, eyes on the sky. Hop wondered what he was thinking about.

They arrived in Wedgehurst and Hop was about to turn to Bede and offer to take the rest of the equipment back to the lab and finish up – if only to get rid of him – but before he could do so an ear-splitting scream had them both near jumping out of their skins. They both spun around to see a young girl sprinting towards them, arms flailing. She skidded to a halt in front of them, out of breath and pink with excitement. “Oh. My. Gosh,” she squealed. “Gym Leader Bede? Is that really you?” She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m _such_ a fan. Fairy-types are the best – my mum says I can get a Clefairy for my eleventh birthday!” She glanced at Hop. He recognised her as Amelia; her mother worked at the Mart on weekends. “I didn’t know Bede was your friend Hop,” she gushed. “You need to introduce me!”

Hop and Bede looked at each other; Hop could see his own bewilderment reflected in Bede’s gaze. “Uh…” he scratched his cheek, scrambling to right himself. “Well, I don’t think he needs much introducing – you seem to know exactly who he is.” He laughed awkwardly. “Bede, this is, uh, Amelia. She lives here in Wedgehurst. Long-time neighbour of mine.” Bede blinked at Hop, before turning to smile at a wide-eyed Amelia. 

“Um, hi.” He shifted the bags he was carrying so he could extend a hand. “Nice to meet you. Pretty town you have here.”

Amelia squealed again and shook his hand so vigorously Hop was concerned for the safety of Bede’s load of equipment. Bede, warmed by her enthusiasm, found his stride in easy conversation as Amelia babbled at him. Hop watched from the sidelines. Outwardly he was smiling, but his stomach was tight. He was happy, being a Pokémon Professor in training – it was where he was meant to be, and he was _good_ at it. Far better than he ever had been at battling competitively. The work wasn’t as glamorous – he spent his days on his knees in the mud whilst the likes of Gloria and Bede were out shaking hands and kissing babies – but it was just as important. Moreso, even: all the strategies and tactics trainers employed related to the attributes of particular Pokémon that had all been discovered by Pokémon professors and researchers. He had great pride in what he did. But he couldn’t help but remember, sometimes, that he had had to fall behind and relinquish a dream to arrive where he was now. For so long, he had compared Leon’s past with his future. And sometimes late at night when he stared up at the darkened ceiling, all he could see was the flash of the stadium lights and the excited roar of the crowd. Cheering for him, the greatest trainer Galar had ever seen…

“Hop?” he was jerked from his reverie by Ameila waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey, Hop? Can you take a picture of us please?” Ameila was clutching her phone to her chest, batting her eyelashes in faux-cutesy fashion. Bede appeared visibly uncomfortable, gaze darting from Hop to Amelia. If Hop hadn’t known better he would have thought he appeared almost apologetic.

“Uh, sure,” Hop replied after a moment. He accepted the phone from her and stood back, gesturing for them to stand in the frame. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” cried Amelia, throwing her arm around Bede’s waist. Bede blinked rapidly, akin to a Stanler in headlights before he managed to adopt a hesitant smile. Hop snapped a few pictures in rapid succession until Amelia was clamouring for her phone back to do a review. She swiped through a few, nodding as she went. “Awesome,” she breathed, looking up at Bede. “Do you have a League Card I could have? Pretty please?”

“Of course,” Bede replied. He fumbled through the assortment of bags he was carrying to find his own rucksack. He felt around inside until his fingers brushed the familiar sharp plastic edges of his League Card bundle to pull one out and place it in Amelia’s eager hands. “Oh. My. _Gosh!”_ She held it up the sun. “It’s signed and everything! This is the best day ever!” She was near vibrating at this point, cheeks flush with delight. “Thank you so much, Leader Bede!” She grinned up at him. “My friends are gonna be so jealous! I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“My pleasure.” Bede shook her outstretched hand one last time. “Lovely to meet you.”

Amelia giggled bashfully, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers with her free hand. When Bede stepped back she finally acknowledged Hop. “Good to see you too, Hop. You’re so lucky – all your friends are so cool!” Hop nodded, unable to muster a smile. _She’s just a kid._

At last Amelia ran off, and Hop and Bede were left standing in silence. “Hop…” Bede ventured after a moment. Hop whirled to face him.

“What?” he snarled, and Bede blinked, taken aback by the force of his reaction.

“I didn’t… that was…” Bede sighed. “Sorry,” he settled for at last.

“What on earth are you apologising for?” Hop forced a laugh. “You’re a Gym Leader. You have fans.”

“I know,” Bede replied. “But… I mean, I know it’s probably weird because of… before.” He pressed his lips together, stumbling over his words. “I just… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” Hop hissed with such vitriol he surprised even himself. Bede stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before his expression became dark. “It’s not pity that I have for you, Hop,” he replied coldly.

Hop’s fists tightened around the bags he was carrying. He was glad of their weight: it kept him grounded, reminded him his hands were full so it would not be prudent to punch Bede in the jaw in broad daylight.

“Give me your bags.” Hop spoke at last. “I’ll take them back. You go home – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bede opened his mouth, then thought the better of it and shut it again. Wordlessly, he handed off the bags to Hop. He didn’t move to help when Hop stumbled slightly under the weight of them.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he replied after a moment, tone flat. He turned back in the direction of Postwick, blond hair shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Hop watched him until he was out of sight, then spun around to head back towards the lab, teeth clenched with fury.

It was sunlight, not tears in his eyes, that obscured his vision.


	3. Three

They didn’t speak about what had happened the next day.

Or the next, or the next. Before Hop knew it, it had been a week and the atmosphere of simmering tension had not eased. It was mind-numbingly frustrating and Hop wanted to understand, but how could he ask, where would he begin? All he could do was watch.

He watched Bede smiling along with Sonia, on his knees in the dirt in the Weald, brow furrowed in concentration on the PC in the lab or with his head in a book. He especially watched him when he bade him farewell in the evenings, his pale skin and flowing hair set alight by the shimmering hues of the sunset. Hop watched, but he couldn’t understand; he couldn’t read the thoughts that flitted behind Bede’s eyes and hung unspoken between them.

“…you know you have talked about nothing but Bede for the whole of this conversation?” Gloria’s voice cut across him mid-sentence, as he was complaining how Bede was so mannerly around Sonia, all smiles and questions about her work. Hop was convinced it had to be a front; he had never known Bede to warm to anyone without a lot of graft on their part. More fool them.

“Well, I have a lot to say,” Hop replied, affronted. “It’s not like I care or anything, I just need to vent. He’s so…” he gestured with the hand not holding the phone – one that happened to be holding a piece of toast. From the corner of his eye he could see the spray of crumbs that littered the floor. A problem for later; the whole place could do with a clean. He had been so busy with work for the last week he’d hardly had time to even consider anything else.

“Uh-huh, sure sounds like you don’t care.” There was a wryness to Gloria’s tone that set Hop’s teeth on edge. “This happens every time you two hang out, you know. You don’t stop going on about him for ages.”

“Like I said, I have a lot to say about him,” Hop shot back. “He’s just so… I don’t understand what he’s trying to do, you know? Like I was saying, he’s so pally with Sonia – she actually likes him – always asking her questions about what she does and about the Weald and about science. As if he actually cares.” He snorted. “I get that he’s here to work – this project obviously is important to him, I’ll give him that, but as if he’s ever been nice to someone for no reason in his life. Like he actually gives a toss about anything Sonia or anyone in this town does.”

“Hop,” Gloria sighed, exasperated. “He’s not trying to do anything. I told you to give him a chance, didn’t I?”

“I have been,” Hop growled. “I’m just saying to you, best mate to best mate, that he’s a pain in the arse and no-one seems to be able to see past his weird, smarmy front. I mean, if he’s so interested in science and what we’re studying at the lab, why would he not ask me? We spend way more time together than him and Sonia do. It’s because he’s not trying to gain _my_ favour because he knows I know what he’s like.”

“You may be my best mate but Bede is my friend too, you know,” Gloria replied with a yawn. “And maybe he’s not asking you questions because you’re being hostile as shit? I wasn’t going to tell you this, but the night I stayed after you left he said that it had been really nice to for the three of us to spend that time together. He’s making an effort Hop, you should too.”

Hop stood to begin getting his things together for the day ahead, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his cheek. “Don’t take his side,” he snapped. “And we all say sentimental shite when we’re drunk.”

“It’s not about _sides,_ Hop. There are no sides.” He could hear the roll of her eyes. “Look, I’m not going to indulge you further about this. I have to go anyway – big press conference this morning.” She clicked her tongue with disapproval. “I hope you’re doing okay. I love you lots, y’know? Try not to overthink about Bede. I know you refuse to believe it, but he is a good guy. He’s changed.”

“I love you too,” Hop replied, weakening. He sighed. “I… maybe to you he’s changed. But I still… still think…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You go – I need to get to work too. Talk soon.”

“Talk soon.” Gloria hung up. Hop took the phone away from his ear and stared aimlessly at the screen for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Gloria – Bede had changed, for her. Because he respected her. But not Hop – as far as Bede was concerned Hop was a mere small-town professor who had thrown in the towel on battling because he had failed. And Hop couldn’t tolerate that. He hadn’t mentioned to Gloria what had happened with Amelia. Truthfully, he was a little ashamed of how he had reacted; his feelings had just been compounded in the moment. He was used to Gloria and her fans whenever they went anywhere together, and their fawning had never bothered him in the slightest. But Gloria had never lorded it over him, not like _some_ people. Hop's rage was utterly justified, right? Although, yesterday... never before had he been able to associate the word contrite with the shiny-haired, stuck-up footnote on his life that was the Ballonlea Gym Leader. But yesterday, yesterday he had... apologised – apologised for what? Offending Hop with his fame? For reminding him that he had everything Hop had once wanted? Did he not understand that Hop had moved on?

He pocketed his phone and piled his breakfast dishes into the sink before heading out. The weather that morning broke the sunny spell they had been enjoying for the past few weeks; the sky was grey, threatening rain, but the spring heat still hung heavy in the air. Hop had already slipped out of his coat by the time he arrived at the lab. Sonia, seated at the PC, raised her hand in a wave without turning around. “Morning Hop,” she greeted. Hop set his bag at the door and came to stand behind her, eyes alight with curiosity. “Morning,” he replied. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Just having a glance over some of the environmental comparisons yourself and Bede have made between the Tangle and the Weald so far.” Sonia gestured to the graphs on the screen. “Bede mentioned you hadn’t had much luck in scouring out anything notable yet, so asked for a second opinion.” She leaned forward, squinting in concentration as though looking more closely would uncover some as-of-yet unrevealed secret. “I haven’t caught anything either. But that’s what science is all about, right? Trial and error.”

“This whole excursion might prove to be useless,” Bede’s voice came from behind them, and Hop whirled to see him making his way down the stairs from the balcony, face obscured by the pile of books he was carrying. He set them on the countertop and came to stand by Hop. “But it was something Opal always talked about looking at again, so… I thought it might be nice to pick it up. In her honour.”

The three of them fell silent for a moment. Opal had passed away 3 years ago. It was an inevitability, of course, but not one that anyone who had ever known Opal had ever entertained. She had always seemed larger than life: a garish pink thread on the tapestry of the colourful characters of Galar’s elite. Hop couldn’t imagine how disconcerting it must have been to watch her grow frailer and frailer, culminating on that grey autumn day in Ballonlea. When he stole a glance at Bede his features were creased, the line of his shoulders rigid. The sight of him swallowed in the throes of his grief was a lightning flash of déja-vu, and for a moment the two of them were standing side by side at that graveside again, Hop’s throat thick with half-formed sentiments that couldn’t quite arrange themselves into words.

“She had a greatly inquisitive mind.” Sonia’s gentle voice wrenched Hop back to reality. She had turned in her seat to face Bede and laid a sympathetic hand on his arm. Hop noted how Bede tensed under her grip for an instant before rearranging his expression into its usual mask of neutrality. “Thanks, Sonia,” he murmured.

Sonia smiled encouragingly and squeezed his arm once more before getting to her feet and breezing past them to her desk. “That reminds me.” She plucked a folder from among the swathes of papers scattered into disorganised piles. Hop had always thought it must be a physical extension of her mind: outwardly cluttered, but everything had a place and Sonia knew exactly where that was. She waved the folder in their faces, then slapped it into Hop’s hands. “This is for you to bring over to Gr- Professor Magnolia’s.” She flushed at the near slip-up. “She called this morning to inquire after your research; she helped Opal when she came to look into the Weald, a long time ago. I told her I would put together some notes and have you bring it over. Is that okay?” she grinned at Bede. “She was excited to see you – said it’s been too long.”

To Hop’s surprise, Bede’s expression brightened considerably. “Oh, really? One step ahead of me as usual – I had meant to get in touch with her to let her know I was around.” The more time Hop spent with Bede the more apparent were the gaping holes present in Hop’s image of him, a photograph over a flame. He’d had a peripheral awareness of Opal’s friendship with Magnolia but at no point had he thought to draw the conclusion that Bede must be close with her, too.

“Word travels fast around these parts, Bede,” Sonia replied with a laugh. “Unlike me, she didn’t forget you were coming. When I went round for tea yesterday that was the first thing she asked about – when you would be dropping by to show her what you had accomplished so far.” She nodded to the folder. “I put that together this morning, said I would send you both over today. Since it’s a joint effort.”

“Of course.” Bede’s tone was tinged with excitement. “I can’t thank you both enough for your help.” Hop bristled instinctively, but couldn’t locate anything in Bede’s expression but genuine warmth. He shook off the discomfort and smiled shakily back, and was glad when Sonia swooped in to respond for the two of them.

“Not at all! That’s what we’re here for: to answer questions about Pokémon and their world.” Hop mumbled something that could pass as agreement before slipping the folder under his arm. “Let’s be off then,” he said to Bede. He nodded at Sonia. “Be back in a tick.”

“Take your time! Magnolia will be thrilled to see you both.” She beamed. “You’ve been working hard, you deserve a break.”

Hop wasn’t sure he would classify this as a break – he would probably rather be working – but refrained from complaint in the face of Sonia’s palpable delight. He knew she often worried for her grandmother; after her husband had passed away she was all alone in that house and Sonia was often too busy to visit as much as she would like. Magnolia was independent and hard as nails, but at least with Hop and Bede there Sonia could relieve herself of the nagging concern for a few hours. Instead, Hop departed with a smile and a nod, the folder clutched to his chest.

Bede strode ahead, his gait hurried and purposeful. Hop trailed a few paces behind, not quite dragging his feet but making no effort to keep up, either. By the time he reached Magnolia’s house Bede was standing by the gate, tapping an impatient rhythm in the dust.

“You never told me you’d been around these parts before.” Hop remarked as he drew up beside him.

“You never asked.” Bede slid open the latch and motioned impatiently for Hop to follow as he trotted up the garden path. Hop scowled at his dismissiveness.

“Oh, right, because I’m supposed to ask you about every possible scenario that might have happened in the world in order for you to mention it. Because that’s how conversations work, is it?”

They were standing outside the door, now. Bede rolled his eyes and raised a hand to bang the Pyroar knocker against the peeling paintwork. “How would I know? You’re always the one insisting I don’t know how to talk to people when I tell you not to yell in the pub.”

Hop’s eyes narrowed. Indeed, there may have been one or two instances of that particular nature. He opened his mouth to snap back only for the door to be flung open to reveal a beaming Magnolia. She had taken to using a zimmerframe in her old age (after much coaxing from Sonia), her posture slightly hunched like a half-folded deckchair. But the smile on her face did more to brighten it than the wrinkles did to crease it. In that moment, with her white hair shining in the crack of sunlight between clouds and the glimmer of delight in her eyes, she appeared ten years younger.

“Bede, dear,” she greeted. “It’s been too long. Have you grown?” 

Bede grinned and skirted neatly around her zimmerframe to gather her into a careful hug. “No, I think you’ve shrunk.” Hop balked at his cheek, but Magnolia only laughed.

“Your tongue is sharp as ever I see.” She tutted affectionately and released him. Bede’s cheeks were pink, perfect ponytail ruffled from the embrace. Hop barely recognised him.

He only realised he had been staring when Magnolia touched his arm. “And lovely to see you too, Professor.” She nodded to the folder in his hands. “Is that for me?”

“Uh…” he blinked stupidly for a moment. _The research._ “Uh, yes. Yes it is.” He proffered the folder. “Sonia mentioned you were interested in our research?”

“Bring it through, I have the tea on.” Magnolia turned to shuffle back into the hallway. “And yes, very interested. As I’m sure Bede has told you myself and Opal started this project years ago. She was always interested in the Weald, but League life is so busy.” Magnolia let out a wistful sigh. “And life is so short. Before you know it, you’re an old crone like me, confined to days spent watering plants and endless cups of tea.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. Sonia is run off her feet trying to get you to stay indoors, I bet,” Bede replied with a laugh, following her inside. Hop was left standing in the doorway, reeling. How was it that he was the one out of sorts, here in the town of his birth? Bede had come and now nothing made sense. His life had been a clear, shallow lake: uncomplicated and safe. Bede had dropped in like a stone, the resounding ripples touching everything Hop had once known to be absolute – his friendships, his career, his past. Now he was left squinting into the pool, struggling to recognise the constantly shifting reflections.

“Hop?” Bede poked his head around the doorway of what must have been the living room. “You alright?”

Hop started. “Uh, yeah. Fine.” He met Bede’s gaze. There remained a dainty flush to his skin, strands of white-blond falling messily into his eyes. In that instant Hop had the bizarre urge to grab his shoulders and shake him, pull him real close and dig his nails into his skin. Maybe if he got close enough he could see what he was missing, could claw out the contents of his brain so well concealed by wry smiles and disparaging sniffs.

Instead he shut the front door and made his way into the room from where Bede had appeared. It was indeed the living room, the lights dimmed to the point Hop could only make out the shape of things: the plush furniture, the oblong shadows of chests of drawers and dressers along the lengths of the walls. Every available surface was decorated with photo frames, even the dusty piano in the corner. Hop’s eyes were drawn immediately to flashes of red in several pictures, bright spots in the relative darkness. He wandered up to one in particular over the fireplace. A much younger Sonia stood with her arm thrown carelessly around Leon, under the shade of the trees in Magnolia’s back garden. They were laughing, faces alight with excitement and despite the stillness of the image Hop could envision so clearly their playful jostling it were as though they were standing there in front of him, brimming with joy and youthful exuberance. He stared until his eyes watered and the edges of his vision blurred. There was probably a photo like that of him and Gloria, somewhere.

“Cute picture.” Bede materialised behind Hop so suddenly he whipped around, arms flailing, and narrowly avoided hitting Bede in the cheek.

“Yeah,” Hop replied at last. He shoved his hands into his pockets so as to avoid any more near-accidents. They observed the photo, the silence sitting heavy on their shoulders. When Hop glanced at Bede his usual smooth expression had resettled into place, the hair that had been falling around his face pulled back. He found himself wondering in that moment what Bede had been like as a child: he hadn’t up until now ever entertained that fact there had been a time when the now-Gym Leader had been wide-eyed and top-full with hope for the future. Hop knew Bede had not had the easiest start in life, having spent some time in an orphanage, but his insight ended there. Bede had never spoken about his beginnings himself – all the information Hop had he had gleaned from his League Card as a Gym Challenger. He had never dwelled any further.

He opened his mouth to ask – he didn’t know what exactly – when Magnolia returned, slowly wheeling a drinks tray laden with a teapot and matching china. Bede flung himself across the room to help her and she laughed at his fussing as he carefully set about transferring the contents of the tray to the coffee table.

“I told you, I didn’t need help,” she scolded affectionately. As she spoke, however, she lowered herself carefully into an armchair, the seat a perfect indent of her shape, happy to let Bede take charge. Hop moved to assist Bede by pouring the tea into the cups. It annoyed him he had not jumped to help immediately: his reaction times were off, as though he were moving through cement. Somehow, Bede fit this scene moreso than he did. If this had been one of the photos on the walls Hop would have been the accidental thumbprint in the corner.

Once the tea was poured and the places set, Hop and Bede took their seats. Hop blew on the steaming cup in his hands, enjoying the damp heat on his skin and how the sensation distracted him from Bede and Magnolia’s murmured recounting of an old story about Opal. Eventually, Magnolia raised a slightly trembling hand to point at the folder sticking out of Hop’s coat.

“Anyway,” she began. “On the subject of Opal, I would be extremely interested to have a look at what work you’ve done on her project thus far.”

Hop snapped to attention and laid down his cup to draw the folder from his inner pocket and hand it to her. “Yes, of course,” he replied, business-like. “As you can see we haven’t made a great deal of progress yet. We’ve noted some similarities between the Tangle and the Weald on the basis of temperature and certain species of plant-life, but that’s about it as of yet.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There’s far more differences than there are similarities, that’s for sure. In fact the differences are so vast I can’t help but wonder if the similarities are merely coincidental and we’re looking from the completely wrong angle. But I don’t know where else to start.”

Magolia’s eyes twinkled with interest, and her fingers leafed through the report with an ease unweighted by age. “Hmmm.” She clicked her tongue. “I would be inclined to agree with you. I was surprised when Opal came to me first – I told her, besides the fact that they are both forests, the two locations would have very little in common. But she was insistent, and her preliminary research was sound – according to all known literature Weezing did indeed first inherit its Fairy-typing in the Weald.”

Bede raised a finger. “If I may,” he cut in, glancing at Hop as though for permission. “It is interesting that it’s _only_ Weezing. There are no other Fairy-types to be found in the Weald at all.” He titled his head. “There obviously is something about the environment that is attractive to Fairy-types in particular – that has to be true. Otherwise Weezing would have never developed the typing in the first place. But why only Weezing? Why have no others spawned there?” He sighed. “It’s perplexing indeed.”

Unthinkingly, Hop had lowered his hand to run a finger around the smooth metal of the Pokéball in his pocket. He wasn’t in the habit of carrying his entire party around with him anymore – the wild Pokémon that populated the areas surrounding Postwick and Wedgehurst were less than threatening. It was Zacian who accompanied him today, the legendary beast who had chosen Hop as its partner. _Not no others._ Zacian was the Fairy-type protector of the Weald. He sat up straighter in his seat with this sudden realisation, eyes widening. _Could it be..?_

Hop said nothing. This was something he wanted to look into himself first, to determine whether it was worth sharing with Bede. They were supposed to be conducting this study together, he knew that, but he couldn’t bear the thought of introducing Zacian to Bede, to opening up this part of his world to him quite yet. It was too precious, a thread that pulled taut together the lives of himself, Gloria and their hometown. No – he would look himself first; it was unlikely to be the answer, anyway.

Bede and Magnolia had moved back to talking about Opal, so Hop could allow himself to zone out of their conversation. He mostly watched Bede, enraptured. It were as though his usual cool exterior had quite literally thawed away: Hop had never seen him so animated, so uninhibited. He gestured and laughed – like _laughed,_ head thrown back, teeth glinting in the low light – and was receptive to Magnolia’s affection, her gentle hand-pats and cooing smiles. Hop remembered seeing a movie, once, where the narrator talked about rude people only wanting to be loved, and if you were to show them that love they would open like a flower. How strange it was, to observe Bede bloom before his very eyes.

The afternoon was more pleasant that Hop had expected it would be. They talked a lot about Opal, her legacy and influence, about their shared pasts, about Sonia, about Gloria. They spent very little time, in fact, straying into conversation that could be labelled scientific. At one point Hop chanced a glance out the window, and all of a sudden the sun was low in the sky, shades of orange and pink streaked across greyish-blue. When he withdrew his phone from his pocket to check his phone, 5:34 blinked back at him in the encroaching darkness.

“Oh wow,” he stood. “Half-past five already! We should be getting back.” He grinned at Magnolia. “Sonia will be wondering where we’ve gotten to – today was supposed to be a working day.”

“Oh, wisht. She knew well what would happen.” Magnolia gave a dismissive wave of her hand, as though batting Hop’s words out of mid-air. “The moment I heard you were embarking on this project, I asked her to make sure you two came around at some point. It’s such a joy to see the youth delving into scientific study. It’s not a glamourous path, but such an important one.”

Hop’s smile became soft. He did not know if her words were for his benefit, but it left a lightness in his chest nonetheless. “Thank you,” he murmured, shaking her outstretched hand. “I think so too.” It steeled his resolve, knowing someone like Magnolia was behind him. He had seen Sonia, her own flesh and blood, have to fight for her approval – it wasn’t granted lightly.

Bede joined him on his feet. “I agree.” He nodded to Hop. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without Sonia or Hop, and Opal would have been lost without you.”

Hop eyed him warily, expectant of a punchline. Bede’s gaze was unblinking, wide and sincere. It equally left him warm and made his skin crawl. “Is my job,” he replied, his tone breezy and reflecting none of the unease that had settled like a rock in his stomach. He was glad when Bede moved to lean forward and carefully hug Magolia goodbye; Gloria always said his expressions were an open book. He couldn’t account for what he was feeling now.

Bede and Magnolia said their farewells and Hop and himself headed out. They left Magnolia sitting in her chair with their research. She would have seen them out, she said, if she had been 10 years younger. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she had gripped Bede’s arm, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “Manners are a youngster’s game. Get old and you can do and say as you please.”

They had all laughed, then, and Hop was glad the visit had ended on a lighter note. He still felt out of sorts, his skin prickling with apprehension. The sensation persisted as they stepped out the front door and into the diminishing daylight. Hop paused to take a deep, calming breath through his nose. The familiar notes of woodsmoke, of earth and freshly-cut grass steadied him, kept him grounded. This was his home – his little corner. Nothing could change that. He caught Bede’s inquisitive sideways glance as they made their way out the gate and set off in the direction of Wedgehurst, but Hop pretended not to notice. He remained stubbornly silent, in fact; hands jammed into his pockets and posture hunched like that of a stubborn child’s.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that quiet at any social gathering.” Bede’s smooth remark broke the silence. Hop lifted his eyes from his shoes to meet his eyes. Bede’s gaze, however, was fixed on the sky, shoulders thrown back in a shape reminiscent of the carefree arc of a fishing line moments before it splices the water’s surface. Normally Bede’s teasing would have him bristling but now he could only laugh nervously, still uncertain.

“Yeah, well, was pretty difficult to get a word in edgeways.” Hop found his voice at last. “I didn’t realise you and Magnolia were that close.”

“She and Opal were close friends.” Bede turned to face him. “They saw each other when they could. And Magnolia isn’t difficult to grow to like.”

Hop pressed his lips together, searching his expression. Bede wore a small, aimless smile, awash with memories of better times. This was what he had wanted, a glimmer of an opening, fleeting as a fish darting out of sight of a shadow; he had to move now or it would be lost.

Instead, words spilled from his lips before he had a chance to register what he was saying. “I mean, old ladies always had a thing for you anyway, didn’t they?”

Hop had strolled a few paces ahead before he realised Bede’s pale figure was no longer in his line of sight. He stopped and turned around, to be confronted with a Bede he was far more familiar with; jaw tensed, eyes steely, all rigid, straight lines down to his hands that were curled into fists.

“Could you stop?” the words escaped from between Bede’s clenched teeth in a hiss. Hop blinked warily at him, the unease that had sat in his stomach melting out to run ice-cold through his veins.

“Stop what?” he asked, proud his voice didn’t tremble. He looked so _angry._

“I have tried with you.” Bede’s tone was terrifyingly even, at odds with the rage that creased his features. “I understand that you don’t like me, and that’s fine. I don’t need you to like me. I don’t need you to be my friend.” He took several steps towards Hop so their faces were mere inches apart, Hop's body locking instinctively in preparation for the punch it was sure would follow. “But I do need you to stop being a fucking _child_ so we can work together _._ You need to get over the fact that I beat you and was nasty to you _seven years ago._ You need to move on.”

Hop flinched at his words, as though they had dealt a physical blow. The chill in his veins had been replaced by fury that burned white hot and itchy beneath his skin. “You think that I don’t like you because you beat me in a battle seven years ago?” he snarled. “You really think that’s the reason?”

Confusion flitted across Bede’s expression, momentarily displacing the mounting tension. “What other reason is there?” he asked. Hop wanted to curl his fingers into his stupid, perfect hair and drag him close to spit the words in his ear.

“I don’t like you because you’re a self-important, disparaging piece of shit who thinks they’re better than everyone.” Hop’s voice rose. “I don’t like you because you trampled my confidence in the mud and have the audacity to suggest that was just you being _nasty._ And I especially don’t like you because you think you’ve fooled everyone, but you haven’t fooled me.”

Bede’s eyes narrowed. “I respected you, you know,” he murmured. “You made a good life for yourself, on your own terms. I tried to show you that. I thought this would be different, I really did.” He took a step back. “I should have known better.”

Without another word Bede brushed past him, a spectre retreating rapidly into the dusk. Hop was left standing alone, blood drumming in his head. It was the adrenaline coursing through his system that had been holding him upright, and upon the passage of the perceived threat he collapsed to the ground like a newborn foal.

He wanted to call out, make him come back and insist they _finish_ this, but when he opened his mouth a familiar, metallic tang overwhelmed him. He raised a tentative hand to his lip and realised he had bitten it so hard it was dripping crimson into the dust.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in 'mood music':  
> Listened to this on repeat for the funeral scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ao8FIszjKZg  
> And this on repeat for the scene in the Weald: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HR8k8Qi_4Q

It was a grey, miserable day in Ballonlea.

Hop looked up at the oppressive cloud cover; it made the world seem smaller, somehow. The trees that encircled the village appeared closer to the ground, watchful sentinels hunched together in mourning. He stood a small distance apart from the cortege of mostly Gym Leaders and league officials that hovered around the entrance to the Gym, murmuring goodbyes and one by one departing from the crowd. They were an uncharacteristically monochrome bunch today, save for the bright pink accents on everyone’s outfits: cufflinks, ties, jewellery. Ornamentation fit to honour a queen – or a fairy-type master.

Hop fidgeted in the uncomfortably tight dress shirt that he had worn perhaps twice before in his life and threw an impatient glance at his brother. Leon, who had accompanied him, stood close by with Raihan and Gloria, deep in hushed conversation and with no clear intention to make a move any time soon. Hop sighed. As glad as he was he had been able to pay his respects to Opal for the final time, funerals really weren’t his scene. He had always been someone to break a silence with a joke, to raise someone out of a frown with a playful nudge to the ribs. In short, everything about his manner was far away from the etiquette involved in miserable affairs such as these. That said, the gym had rung with laughter moreso than it had in sniffles during the service – Opal’s legacy was one far more of mirth than of sadness. The roster of Galar’s elite would not be the same without her.

He turned away, wiping his sleeve free of the thin film of damp that had settled there. Appropriate weather for a funeral, he supposed. It was but a drizzle, at least – not utterly pissing. The bodies milling around him had a silver sheen to their dark clothes, as though wrapped in clingfilm. It was in that moment he realised that _everyone_ around him was dressed in black. Bede, who had been adorned in pink, was nowhere to be seen.

Hop looked around, confused. Bede had, of course, led the procession today. Even Hop had to admit he had done a superb job: he had been poised and utterly eloquent, in both his eulogy and his place at the head of the cortege. The pink on everyone’s outfits had been at Bede’s behest, but Bede himself had gone all out, donning an electric pink suit and tie with a rose-patterned shirt, elaborate magenta shoes (Hop hadn’t known you could even get leather in that colour) and a pink diamond earring that sparked on the end of a rose-gold chain. Indeed, in that get-up he was hard to miss, so Hop could confirm immediately that he was nowhere to be seen among the remaining mourners. Despite the ill-will that still lingered between them after several years, it was concerning. Bede’s apparent equanimity could only stretch so far, Hop was sure. Opal’s death would affect him more than all of them combined and he knew if it were him he wouldn’t really want to be alone with his thoughts right now.

He glanced over at Leon one last time to ascertain there was no sign of movement. He was leaning against Raihan, whose hand was resting on the small of his back. No, they wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Satisfied, Hop stole away to follow the footprints in the mud back towards the graveside, nestled in a small grotto in the Glimwood Tangle. He was glad of the strategically placed glow of the mushrooms that guided his way.

When Hop stepped into the grotto Bede was standing with his back to him, shoulders drawn taut. Hop padded cautiously forward to come and stand by his side. Bede’s face was outwardly smooth, pensive, but the hard lines of his posture were a giveaway, his body a dam braced against the deluge of grief that threatened to crash forth. For a long moment there was no sound but the wind whispering between the leaves and the gentle patter of rain. For once in his life, Hop was lost for words.

“Hey Hop,” Bede murmured at last. His voice was low, a rumble in the back of his throat. He didn’t take his eyes off the soon-to-be-grave.

Hop eyed him. “Hey,” he replied. If the world had seemed smaller before, it was nothing compared to now. All of existence had been whittled down to them and this hole in the ground. There was nothing outside of here but thick undergrowth and grey, grey cloud.

“I…” Hop hesitated. “I noticed you were missing. I thought… well…” What had he thought? What was he doing here? He signed. “I just… wanted to make sure you were okay, I guess.” In that instant Hop wondered why he had been stupid enough to come: what could he possibly have to say that would make any of this alright?

“I’m okay.” Bede tucked his hands into his armpits in a feeble attempt to ward off the cold and let out a long breath. “It was just… so loud back there. I needed a minute.”

Hop chuckled. “Yeah, was quite a turn-out, huh?” he folded his hands behind his head. “Opal was really something. She’ll be missed.”

Bede frowned, and Hop noticed his jaw clench. “Mm,” he mumbled. “Yeah.”

Hop’s smile faded. All too late, he was beginning to realise that whatever state he had expected to find Bede in, it hadn’t been… this. Rationally, of course, he had known the now-Gym Leader would be crushed, but Hop had never managed to conceptualise Bede as someone who existed beyond their former rivalry. He had never paused to consider that Bede possessed an inner life, the capacity for emotion beyond disdainful arrogance. Hop ached with some unnameable feeling as he regarded him now, top-full with grief.

Before he could fully register what he was doing, his arm had reached out to place a hand on Bede’s shoulder. He felt Bede suck in a surprised intake of breath and for the first time turned to look Hop in the eye, his own glassy with unshed tears.

“Bede…” his words were little more than a whisper; there was a lump in his throat all of a sudden. “Bede I’m so sorry.” And he meant it, meant it more than he could ever possibly hope to convey.

Bede opened his mouth. With that tiny movement, Hop felt his entire body shift beneath his touch, testament to the tension that was holding him together. Before he could speak, however, the sound of someone clearing their throat stopped them both in their tracks.

Magnolia stood at the entry-way to the grotto, eyes partially obscured by the netting of her hat. Hop jumped rapidly back from Bede, as though having been burned.

“Professor,” he blurted. “Uh… hi.” Bede remained silent.

Magnolia nodded solemnly. “Hop.” She raised her walking stick for a moment to gesture back in the direction they had come. “Your brother is looking for you. I said I would come and find you, as I was heading this way myself.” Her gaze flickered to Bede, who had turned back to the grave. “I wanted to speak to Bede, if you don’t mind.”

Hop knew a dismissal when he heard one. “Of course.” He took a step back, aware of Magnolia’s eyes tracing his every move. “Bede, I’ll… I’ll see you around. I… It’ll be okay.”

Bede merely nodded, the movement mechanical. Hop eyed him for a second longer, overcome with helplessness. He wanted to stay, to find the right words, but the moment was gone. He was surplus to requirements.

He turned away, mud sucking at his shoes. Magnolia stepped up to take his place by Bede’s side and he disappeared back into the undergrowth without a word.

Once out of earshot, compelled by forces unknown, he paused to glance back over his shoulder. The bright, unmistakeable shape of Bede was on his knees in the dirt, Magnolia’s hand on his shoulder.

Hop stared, chest tight, before Leon’s voice calling him from beyond the trees summoned him back on his way.

***

Hop had lain awake for several hours after settling down for the night, unable to get the image of Bede standing by the graveside out of his head. For a long time he simply stared at the ceiling, aimlessly watching the dance of the colours that undulated at the corners of his vision as he pondered.

Why was it he was recalling this moment now? The memory and the strange swell of feeling that accompanied it had been perfectly preserved, as though his brain had had a sense it would have some significance later. Akin to spring-cleaning, when odds and ends were set aside without use for _now_ but would definitely have some divine purpose in the future. There hadn’t come a time when the three-legged Wooloo plush from his childhood had come in handy in the past ten years or so, but he was positive he would find a use for it any day now.

Eventually, he gave up on the pretence he was attempting to sleep and slid out of bed to pad to the kitchen and fetch himself some water. He plucked a glass from where it was drying on the dish-rack to fill it and sat at his small kitchen table. He sank slowly down until his chin rested on the chipped laminate, fingers still clasped around the glass. The cool sensation of it in his hand kept him present, from spiralling off into the abyss of his confused thoughts.

He didn’t understand why he cared so much. He had known from the moment Bede stepped off the train at Wedgehurst – it seemed like a lifetime ago now - that they would fight. It was inevitable, there was far too much history there for him to ignore. He knew that now. Until Bede could find it in himself to regard Hop with anything but aloof disdain, nothing would change. Right? What good was there fretting over what had always been bound to occur?

Opal’s funeral had been the sole instance Hop could recall where Bede had displayed any glimmer of vulnerability. It had stirred Hop to see this figure in his life who had always been such a source of resentment and frustration near-crippled by grief, barely able to hold the carefully assembled pieces of himself together. In that moment Hop had been able to brush away the shards of their relationship scattered like glass on their respective paths and simply provide a comforting presence for a person in pain.

Bede had appreciated that. Like he had appreciated Hop working with him to carry out Opal’s unfinished research and…

_This is bigger than you._

He slowly raised his head to rest his chin in his hand, eyes wide, so ashamed all of a sudden he felt sick.

He thought of Bede that day when Amelia had asked for his autograph, how wary and apologetic he had been in the aftermath. And earlier today, when they had been at Magnolia’s and Bede had been so complimentary of Hop’s work; Hop had always believed it had been some game, some nasty trick. When Hop least expected it, Bede would pull the rug from under his feet and grind his confidence into the mud once more, the same mud Bede had proclaimed Hop was dragging his brother’s reputation through.

At Opal’s funeral Hop had managed to cover the thorn that festered in his side and dangle an olive branch without fully realising the enormity of the gesture. Here, all these years later, Bede had been attempting to do the same, and each time Hop had waved him away as though he were a particularly annoying insect, stubbornly convinced it was only possible Bede was sending him up in order to take him down.

_This is bigger than you._

Hop took a sip of water from the glass that was now slippery with condensation and stood to gaze out the window. The lights of Wedgehurst and Postwick were bright pinpricks in the darkness, guiding his eyes to where the shapes of trees slightly distorted the line of the horizon.

Maybe it was finally time to try and put the past behind him.

Hop knew what he had to do.

***

It was not yet fully light when Hop made his way out to Route 1. Morning was just beginning to bleed into the sky, chasing away the remnants of the fitful night he had had. Upon settling on his plan he had gone back to bed and managed a few hours of what could technically be deemed ‘sleep’; as he stepped out into the fresh morning air, however, his eyes remained heavy, scratchy with tiredness. He recalled Bede’s comment that morning he had arrived and chuckled to himself as he set out: why _weren’t_ there any coffee outlets in such a sleepy town as this?

It didn’t take him long to arrive at his post. He leaned against the wall that encircled the field beside Gloria’s house; for a stranger the rough-hewn stone that dug into the skin might have been uncomfortable, but locals like himself were more than accustomed. He settled into place and swiped at his cheeks, damp from tears produced by the crisp breeze and constant yawning, before pulling his phone from his pocket to occupy himself. Hopefully, Hannah would not arise before Bede – he was aware he was in full view of the kitchen window and were she to stumble sleepily over to the sink to fill the kettle he would be seen. These stirrings of unease did not sit with well with him; he had passed many hours of his life in this very spot, foot tapping with impatience, waiting for Gloria to materialise at the threshold whilst Hannah waved cheerily from that same window. Now, however, he had no excuse to be here: none that could be easily explained, at least.

The more time that passed, the closer Hop came to giving in and bolting. He pretended to look at his phone whilst casting frequent, increasingly impatient glances at the sun climbing ever-higher in the sky. It was strange, how confidence in seemingly well-constructed ideas assembled under the cover of darkness dissipated immediately in the light of day. No wonder plotting usually happened at night. What if Bede refused to forgive him? What then?

Before Hop could give in to his paranoia, Gloria’s front door swung open. Instinctively he sucked in a breath and flattened his body against the wall, as though doing so would effectively hide him in any way. Bede appeared a second later, hair damp and skin still lightly flushed from the shower. He bade a jovial goodbye to Hannah and sprung down the uneven garden steps, neatly avoiding a large crack Hop knew was in the second-to-last one without looking down. Hop ignored the slight swell of indignation at this and raised a hand to wave. “Hey, Bede,” he greeted, as cheerfully as he could muster. Bede started as though he had come charging at him with a shotgun – Hop supposed he might as well have. Whilst his toothy grin was a trademark of his to most of his acquaintances, Bede would be far more familiar with the pouty jut of his lower lip.

“Morning.” Bede blinked at him warily. He had come to a halt at the gate and hung there now, reluctant to cross into uncharted territory. Hop kept a respectful distance a few feet away, arm still half-raised in awkward greeting. He hurriedly folded it behind his back and cleared his throat, suddenly unsure of himself. He hadn’t planned exactly what he was going to say – truthfully, part of him had been sure he wouldn’t make it this far. The duo eyed each other tensely. Unspoken questions flickered across Bede’s expression, but Hop knew he would not deign to speak first.

“Listen…” he looked away, rubbing the base of his neck. He was mildly surprised to feel it was damp with sweat. “I…” He met his gaze with difficulty. “I wanted to apologise. For what I said yesterday.”

He trailed off, uncertain. Bede allowed the silence to linger for a second or two. When it was clear Hop was not going to continue, he spoke. “Well?”

Hop stared, missing a beat. “Pardon?” he asked foolishly.

“Are you going to apologise?”

Hop drew himself up, reigned in whatever stupid comment he had been about to snarl in retaliation. “Right,” he managed instead. Proclaiming the intention to apologise didn’t count; it was funny how frequently people forgot that. He coughed, embarrassed. “I’m… sorry.” The words slipped out more easily than he had anticipated. The sincerity imbued within them lent him confidence, relaxed his posture and steadied his gaze.

Bede held his eyes and waited, expectant of an addendum, the terms and conditions around Hop’s sudden remorse. When none came he pressed his lips together and looked away, scuffed the dirt with his shoe. Hop resisted the urge to fill the silence: it was Bede’s turn, now.

“Thank you, Hop,” he murmured at last. Hop badly wanted to slide a finger under his chin, raise his face to his so he could examine his expression. “I know… that can’t have been easy.” Finally, finally, as though receptive of Hop’s discomfort, he lifted his eyes and in a smooth, singular motion crossed the space between them to hold out his hand. “I meant what I said yesterday – we don’t have to be friends. You don’t have to like me. But I’m glad we can at least be civil.” He didn’t add _starting from now_ but the words hung in the air regardless, akin to a sneeze stifled in the fold of an elbow.

“Um… yeah.” Hop grasped his hand and shook it firmly, wanting a suitable sign-off for his apology. Bede’s grip was clammy, palm damp like his own. Was it possible Bede was as nervous as he was? “About that.” His lips curled into a shaky smile, a peace offering. “I… did a lot of thinking last night. And I realised… you were right in what you said yesterday. About me being unable to let go of the past.” He released Bede’s hand to run it sheepishly through his hair. “I haven’t been fair to you, now or… ever, really. We were kids before, and things were so different for both of us. I guess… maybe I’m not as over it as I thought I was.” His smile became rueful. “But that’s my problem. I think… I mean, we could try to be friends, right?”

Bede blinked, wrongfooted. He opened his mouth, lips forming the shape of a word, before he shut it again and once more directed his gaze to his shoes. “Well… I…” he peered up at Hop through his hair, uncharacteristically… bashful, almost. “Thank you… thank you for saying that.” His voice sounded a slight hoarse all of a sudden, as though attempting to speak through a cough. “I… would like that very much.”

Hop beamed and for the second time that morning (some sort of record, surely) he reached out and seized Bede’s hand again. “Glad to hear it!” he chirped. “Here’s to us being adults.” Bede nodded slowly, eyes wide with bewilderment at the sudden switch in disposition. Had Gloria been there, she would have wryly remarked he would get used to it.

“Anyway,” Hop continued, conversational, as though they had merely been discussing the weather all this time. “As I mentioned, I was doing a lot of thinking last night. And I have to confess there’s something I’ve been… not hiding, exactly, but… well not sharing with you that could possibly have some answers regarding our project.” He half-turned to point in the direction of the Weald. “And I thought now would be a good time to show you. As some sort of gesture, I suppose?” he scratched his cheek. “Something like that. Whatever you want to call it, I think it’s important.” He gestured for Bede to follow. “This way?”

Bede’s eyes darted from Hop, to the treeline, then back again. “Uh…” his mind was still awhirl with all that had just transpired. “I… guess?” the words trailed off in a question. Of course he wanted badly to patch things up with Hop, but there were plenty of cautionary tales out there around wandering into the woods with… with what? What were they now? He had been into the Weald many times with the budding professor at this point, but… this was different. Somehow, he was aware that if he were to step into the shadow of the trees with him now, everything would change; was it not the most human reaction in the world to cling to what you knew?

Hop could read clearly the hesitancy in his eyes. How alien it was, to be on the other side of the tracks – did Bede think he had some awful trick up his sleeve? His own gaze softened, and he smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. “It’s good,” he murmured. “I swear.”

Irritation clouded Bede’s face for an instant, a shadow passing briefly over the sun. It was the most familiar expression Hop had seen adorn his features thus far. “I’m sure it is,” he replied curtly. “I just…” he shook his head. “Nothing. Lead the way.”

***

It was considerably colder in the Weald. Light had difficulty penetrating the thick canopy overhead at the best of times, but at this tender hour the milky morning rays could be felt as keenly as the nip of a Cutiefly on the rump of a Copperjah. The undergrowth surrounding them was a-bustle with activity with the onset of dawn. Rookiedee could be heard stirring to wakefulness in song, their high, warbling notes companionable with the crunch of their footsteps across the forest floor, and occasionally a streak of grey lightning in the form of a Skwovet would cross their path, dashing for the safety of the overhanging branches. Hop had pulled slightly ahead, jittery with excited energy. Bede struggled to keep up with his darting sure-footedness, lacking in the instinct Hop had for the Weald. The trees seemed to part voluntarily for Hop, ushering him by with a bow and a nod before crowding forth to shove Bede back, a last-ditch attempt to obscure whatever it was Hop had been hiding from him. Bede would not be deterred.

Eventually Hop realised he could no longer hear the crash of Bede’s steps behind him and spun in place to animatedly assure him they were almost there (can you see the glow up ahead?) only to blink at the emptiness behind him. He drew to a halt, near-vibrating with impatience, just shy of a cartoonish hop from foot to foot. Bede stumbled up beside him a few seconds later. He paused to pick some leaves from his perfect hair, breath coming slightly laboured. Hop opened his mouth to speak, a playful quip on his lips, only to realise Bede was shivering slightly. Without thinking, Hop fumbled in his pocket to unravel his scarf that was bundled there and paused to hand it over.

“Here,” he murmured. His voice had become soft; conspiratorial, almost. They were deep into the Weald, now – no longer alone. The trees appeared to have drawn closer, the tremor of their leaves in the weak breeze reminiscent of whispered conversation.

Bede’s eyes fluttered with surprise, and Hop caught himself observing in that instant how thick his eyelashes were - like bleached clumps of desert grass surrounding an oasis. He was in the middle of contemplating how _stupid_ that thought was when Bede grasped the proffered scarf.

“Thanks,” he replied, avoiding Hop’s gaze and sweeping forward, so Hop didn’t have time to properly assess if that really was a faint colour on his cheeks.

Hop shook his head and followed, eager to leave the strangeness of whatever that moment had been behind them. They had arrived at the arch of trees that lined the path to the altar and Hop felt a familiar flush of anticipation. He had been here countless times before, of course, but it was never any less special. They burst through the treeline to stumble over crumbling stone, and Hop immediately felt the peace of the atmosphere settle over him, akin to relaxing into bed after a long day. When he looked over at Bede he was blinking rapidly, eyes struggling to adjust without the shroud of fog obscuring his vision. Hop waited, a benign smile tracing his features as he met Bede’s gaze with an expectant look. 

“Well.” He gestured toward the altar. “Here we are.”

Bede had frozen, hands only partially lowered from where he had been rubbing his eyes. Hop surpassed a chuckle; the pose gave him the look of a child who had been distracted mid-cry by a toy waved in his face.

“What is this place?” Bede whispered, awestruck.

“Follow me,” Hop replied. Were it Gloria, he would have reached out and grabbed his wrist. But it wasn’t. Instead, he twitched his head in the direction of the altar and led him to stand in the shadow of the crumbling stonework. Bede lingered warily by his side, body taut with the breath he was holding. Hop grinned at him encouragingly and knelt down to run a careful finger along the blade of the Rusted Sword.

“This is the birthplace of Zacian and Zamazenta.” Hop turned to meet his gaze over his shoulder. “This is where they lay for thousands of years, protecting the Weald. And this is where myself and Gloria came to rouse them when…”

“The Darkest Day,” Bede murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. “I remember.”

Hop nodded and rose to his feet, hand going to caress the cool metal of the Pokéball at his belt. “We had met them, once before,” he continued. “The day our journeys began… we chased a runaway Wooloo into here and got lost in the fog. It was worse than it is at the moment, if you can believe it.” He chuckled. “They chased us away, then. Had this place under their protection. But… they chose us when the time came. They came to our aid when we called for them, and later joined us as our partners.” He unlatched the Pokéball and smiled lovingly at it as he rolled it in the palm of his hand. “Zacian followed me. A Fairy-type.” He grinned at the dawning realisation in Bede’s eyes. “I thought you might like to meet them.”

Bede’s opened his mouth, but before he could reply Hop had tossed Zacian’s Pokéball to the ground. Simultaneously, they raised a hand to shield their faces as Zacian burst forth in a beam of light. Hop stepped forward to take his partner’s face in his hands, and laughed as Zacian snuffled at him affectionately. When he turned to look at Bede he was still standing, slack-jawed and stunned into silence at the casual manner in which Hop greeted this being whom until relatively recently had been spoken of only in legend.

“Zacian,” Hop moved aside to nod in Bede’s direction. “This is Bede, the Fairy Type leader here in Galar. He’d be honoured to meet you.”

Zacian flicked their ears in acknowledgement and turned to survey Bede, inquisitive. Bede merely stood for a long moment, fingers pressed to his throat. He was so still Hop could observe rapid rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Hop cleared his throat, about to ask Bede if he was alright, before Bede broke out of his daze to stumble forward and kneel before Zacian, forehead lowered so it almost touched the earth. Hop watched with bated breath as Zacian tilted their head to observe him for a heartbeat, yellow eyes bright with intensity, before gently pressing their nose to the back of Bede’s head.

Bede was trembling when he raised himself up to meet Zacian’s gaze. They stared at one another for a long moment, deep in unspoken conversation, until Zacian lowered itself to Bede’s level in invitation. A grin unfurled over Hop’s face like a ray of sunshine through cloud as Bede placed a shaky hand atop Zacian’s head and Zacian rumbled quietly with approval when Bede stroked behind his ears. Bede appeared overcome with a humility so uncharacteristic to Hop he was almost unrecognisable; in the buttery sunlight that seemed to constantly bathe the grotto his hair and the alabaster planes of his face were alight, features slack with awe. There were only a handful of fleeting moments Hop could recall where he had seen Bede with his guard totally down: the funeral, the lab on the first day… now. Every time it seemed to stopper his breath – be it with surprise or something else, he didn’t know. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away.

After an eternity Bede stepped away. He stumbled, still a tad shaky on his feet, and Hop snapped from his trance to put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, a hesitant smile on his lips. Bede regained his balance and moved away, suddenly tense. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, leaning forward to brush the dust from his trouser-legs. He used the moment to gather himself, to attempt to arrange the swirl of emotion welling inside him into something resembling words. “Hop…” he swallowed. “Hop… I can’t… I don’t know how to thank you.”

Hop grinned. “No need. I thought it was about time Zacian play a part in our studies.” At the mention of their name Zacian wandered over to Hop to nose the back of his neck, and Hop let out a short bark of surprised laughter as he reached up to scratch them under the chin. “I… Zacian and this place mean a lot to myself and Gloria, obviously. I didn’t want you to know about it all because… well, you know.” His smile became sheepish. “And that was foolish, I know that now. Zacian, being Fairy-type, might have something to do with our research, and I was excluding you from that out of pettiness. Bringing you here will hopefully be a step in the right direction for the project and a gesture of goodwill moving forward, right?”

Bede nodded. “It’s an honour,” he murmured. He shook his head, still reeling. “Opal, as you know, had come here before, to study Fairy types and uncover the secrets of the Weald. I’m glad she was still alive when yourself and Gloria brought Zacian and Zamazenta back. Even if she never got to the bottom of the secrets of the Weald… knowing Zacian had returned was enough.” His voice had become rough with emotion, and Hop pretended not to notice when he raised an arm to swipe over his eyes.

“I’m glad,” Hop replied gently. “And I’m glad we did this.” It was time to put the past behind them.

Bede nodded, gaze soft. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, finally finished this lol. I’ll be honest, rushed the end a little and it’s not my best work, but I may go back and rework it sometime; I just wanted to get this out! The first three chapters came out so quickly, lol – the time it took to get this one out is far more on par with how quickly future chapters will be released. Have a full-time job, yo.
> 
> Anyways, hope you all enjoy regardless! As always feedback is greatly appreciated <3


	5. Five

It was simpler than Hop had anticipated to venture into the as-of-yet unexplored territory of an earnest attempt at friendship with Bede.  
  
The gesture in the Weald had them off to a strong start, he supposed; Bede was not one to back down from a challenge and Hop had set him a high bar to reach. That very same day, when Hop had shouted cheerily to Sonia that he would be taking his lunch and had wandered out to the garden to sit on the grass and delve into his latest tome, but a few minutes later Bede had appeared at the back door. Silently, he had come to sit by Hop and, seemingly oblivious to Hop's quiet surprise, outstretched a hand to offer him one of Hannah's homemade pasties.  
  
They fell into this pattern naturally and without quarrel. Hop did, admittedly, on occasion side-eye Bede's smiles, listen carefully for a snide edge to his laughter at Hop's stupid jokes. Days passed, but none ever came. Having his back up the entire time he was around Bede had been more draining than he had realised, and he found himself eager to put that to rest and be his usual, easy-going self.

It was on one of these what-had-become usual afternoons that, mouth crammed with one of Hannah’s scones (she was delighted that Bede now had someone to share them with and often over-supplied), he received a text from Gloria. As Bede had excused himself to go to the bathroom, Hop checked it right away.

_haven’t heard from you in a while. just making sure you hadn’t killed each other yet??? been keeping an eye on the news…_

Hop chuckled. He had been complaining to her less lately, he supposed. With a loving shake of his head, he replied:

_Very funny. All fine here – weirdly we’ve sort of become friends I think?? Long story, will tell you in person sometime. On lunch now._

He pocketed his phone and closed his eyes to let his head fall back against the garden wall, turning his face up to bask in the gentle spring sunshine. It was a perfect day today: crisp and dry, the sky a cloudless blue but minus any unbearable heat. He could have dozed off had his phone not buzzed again, somehow with a more insistent resonance than the last time.

_are you for real????? don’t leave me hanging like that!! did something happen???_

Hop sighed. Of course, it had been foolish to think he would get away with ending the conversation with his last message. He heard the back door swing open as he hurriedly typed his final addition to the conversation:

_Is complicated. Will call you tomorrow – have my mum’s tonight._

Indeed, it was finally Thursday: Hop’s weekly night at his mother’s. While he did only live up the road, full-time work and frequent research trips left him little time to dedicate to visits. Before moving out, he and his mother had agreed he would come for his dinner once a week, so as to ensure she remained a part of Hop’s routine. He had acquiesced without argument: one evening a week in that house, he could manage fine. He looked up to greet Bede only to see him emerging with his phone in his hand, squinting in the sudden brightness of the outdoors. Hop quirked an eyebrow at him as he resumed his spot beside him again.

“That Gloria?” he asked with a wry grin.

Bede looked up at him in surprise, before the expression rapidly dissolved into poorly disguised suspicion.

“Uh, yes. How did you know?”

Hop laughed. “She’s onto me as well. Nothing bad, mind you. Just wants to know what’s going on with us. Which is fair, I suppose.”

Bede considered this, lips pursed. “She’s asking me if I think we’re friends now.” He avoided Hop’s gaze as he spoke. “I didn’t know what to say. I don’t think I really know what’s happening.”

Hop didn’t think his last comment was intended as a joke, but he laughed anyway because he didn’t know how else to react. He was unsure whether Bede could pick up on the uneasiness underlying the sound. “I mean, don’t look at me.” He shrugged, helplessly. “I don’t take just anyone to the altar in the Weald, so… take from that what you will I suppose?” He could feel Bede’s stare burning into the side of his cheek. “I like to think we’re getting there.”

“Getting there…” Bede echoed softly. “I guess so.” He leaned back against the wall in a shadow of Hop’s posture, staring at his shoes. When Hop glanced at him his brow was furrowed, as though he were puzzling over a particularly difficult exam question. Hop left him to this thoughts; they sat in silence for a long moment before Bede spoke again.

“Hop,” he murmured. “I was kind of taken off guard before, but-“

They both jumped violently at the sudden blare of Hop’s phone in his pocket. Cursing under his breath, Hop withdrew it to glare at the screen. If it was Gloria, he would –

_Mum._

Hop sucked in a breath and pressed the answer key, annoyance shoved hastily aside.

“Hey Mum!” he greeted brightly. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Bede’s slightly bewildered expression, disconcerted by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

“Hi love,” she replied. There was a faint clattering in the background that Hop could immediately identify as the wooden spoon against the mixing bowl. He could picture her so clearly, apron and clothes speckled with white, phone cradled between her shoulder and cheek whilst she sifted flour through batter in the black and white spotted bowl she had had for as long as he could remember. He felt a pang in his chest at the familiarity of the image – that was _home._ She had always worked so hard for him and Leon, even when things had been at their worst. It wasn’t her fault he found it difficult to be there, not really.

“Everything alright?” he asked, realising neither of them had spoken in a few seconds.

“Oh yes, of course.” She chuckled. “Sorry, got distracted there for a second, almost dropped the sugar. Anyway, I was just calling to ask if you would prefer chocolate or coffee cake for tonight?”

“Er, either is fine. Whichever requires less sugar I suppose, wouldn’t want to subject you to any more almost-accidents.” They both laughed, then, and Hop felt himself relax. “In all seriousness though, I really don’t mind. Ask Granny what she’d fancy.” He turned to smile apologetically at Bede who had returned his attention to his own phone, when he was suddenly struck with an idea.

“Hey Mum?” he asked, interrupting her calling out to his granny. He heard the whoosh of air as she pressed the phone back against her ear.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I know it’s short notice and everything, but I was wondering if it would be okay if I brought someone round tonight? Have a friend staying in the area for research and I thought it might be nice.”

“Oh, you mean… Beet, was it? The Ballonlea Gym Leader who’s Gloria’s friend?” she asked, without missing a beat. “Hannah mentioned he was staying with her. I didn’t know he was your friend too, but of course! The more the merrier.”

Hop rolled his eyes with a grin. “It’s Bede. But right, should have known you would be up to speed.”

He acknowledged Bede’s stare with a smile and a flick of his head. The other boy was gawping at him with a slight frown, and Hop wondered for a moment whether he had made a mistake. They had agreed they would make an attempt at friendship, but he supposed he had never paused to consider that their images of what that might look like were likely wildly different. He turned away so as not to be distracted whilst finishing his conversation: one thing at a time.

“Well, that’s no problem at all. I’ll see you and Bede at the usual time then?” his mother was saying. “Looking forward to seeing you both!”

“Great, see you later. Lots of love.” Hop hung up and spun around to beam at Bede again, who was regarding him with that same befuddled expression.

“Uh, so… would you like to come to dinner tonight?” he asked, a nervous waver in his tone. “Sorry for catching you off guard like that. It’s fine if you’re busy or whatever, I just thought…” he shrugged. “I dunno. If we’re having a go at being friends it seems weird that you haven’t been round yet, when you’re right over the road.”

Bede rubbed at the side of his neck, avoiding Hop’s gaze all of a sudden. “I mean… I guess?” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “If… I wouldn’t be intruding? It is awfully short notice.”

Hop chuckled and came to sit beside him again. “Ah, don’t worry about that. Mum is always happy to have guests – the place is kinda empty since I moved out, I think.” He met Bede’s wary eyes, his own glowing with warmth. “Honestly, I am sorry for not asking you in advance. I get ideas and tend to run with them without thinking, just ask Sonia.” He shook his head fondly at thoughts of her constant, gentle chiding. “But don’t think I’m just asking out of politeness, that’s not how I do things. I’m asking because I want you to. I think… well, it would be good for us, right? This is what friends do.”

Bede’s lower lip protruded slightly as he considered this. “I’d like that, I think,” he murmured after a moment. Slowly, a hesitant smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”

Hop clapped him between the shoulder-blades, sending the scones that had been piled between them strewing across the grass at their feet.

“My pleasure,” he replied with a laugh. And he meant it.

***

Hop arrived at Gloria’s at around 7:45 and leaned against the wall in his usual spot. He had made the wise decision not to inform Gloria that he had invited Bede round yet; he would speak with her during the weekend and supply the details then. Or, perhaps the whole affair would be a disaster and Hop would be calling her at 11pm after four too many glasses of wine. With a shake of his head, he forced that thought away – it would be fine. Why wouldn’t it be?

He was glad of the distraction when the front door swung open and Bede’s silhouette appeared in the buttery light that illuminated the threshold. Hop straightened and nodded in acknowledgement as Bede loped down the garden path to come and stand beside him, a shiny bag bumping against his hip. Hop opened his mouth to jokingly ask if there was something for him too, only for Hannah to appear in the doorway to wave, beaming. Hop returned her wave with an enthusiastic one of his own.

“Lovely to see you Hop,” she called. “Say hello to Jess for me, won’t you?”

“You too Hannah,” Hop replied. “I will of course. Do join us yourself some night!”

Hannah laughed. “Sometime soon, but not tonight! Will be cosying up to my crime dramas with a takeaway tonight.” She turned to wink at Bede. “Don’t be in any hurry back, now.”

Bede grinned. “Whatever you say, Ms. McNab.” He raised a hand to wave as well. “Enjoy your night!”

Hannah blew them both a kiss and shut the door. The road became dark again all of a sudden, save for the gentle glow of the streetlamps lining the road. Hop turned in the direction of his mother’s, gesturing for Bede to follow with a twitch of his head.

“Hannah is lovely, isn’t she?” Hop asked. It was perhaps the world’s most obvious statement, but he could sense Bede’s nervousness and found he wanted to put him at ease.

Bede nodded. “Very much so. I have no idea how to thank her for her hospitality.” He sighed. “And Sonia’s. Everyone around here is so…” he gestured with his free hand, as though the word he sought could be plucked from mid-air. “… kind. All the time. I’ve never…” he frowned. “It’s not what I’m used to,” he settled on at last.

Hop regarded him searchingly. It was clear he’d made a massive effort: his hair was newly washed and carefully pinned back, and he wore a crisp, white shirt coupled with a rose-patterned satin waistcoat and trousers so carefully pressed they could have come straight from the tailor’s. From the shape of the bag he was clutching it was obvious that what was inside was a bottle of wine – likely an expensive one, if his attire was anything to go by. Hop, on the other hand, donned a light blue button down and a pair of grey jeans that he’d worn so often over the years they were going slightly threadbare in the seams. It had never occurred to Hop that going round to a parents’ house for dinner, an utterly mundane experience for most, was something Bede most likely had very little – if any – experience with. The thought made him sad; how much had Bede missed out on that he took entirely for granted, he wondered?

“Yeah, it’s a great little community here,” Hop responded after a moment, ignoring the strange ache in his chest. “I’m grateful to have been able to grow up somewhere like this. Lot to be said for caring neighbours and rolling fields.” He chuckled. “Even if the closest coffee chain is absurdly far away.”

Hop was glad when Bede smiled back, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Hop laughed as they drew up to the front gate, and leaned forward to unlock the latch. “Nope. I don’t think a city kid like you could ever truly appreciate how hilarious the idea of having a franchised outlet of any description out here would be. I don’t think the locals would know what to do with themselves.” He didn’t miss the twitch of the curtain in the living room as they started up the garden path: of course, his mother had them timed to the second.

Bede fell behind him as they approached the door. Hop had raised a fist to knock, but before he could it was wrenched open to reveal Jess who, without a word, lunged to grab Hop’s face in her hands and press a kiss on each cheek. Hop spluttered with surprise and stumbled back a couple of steps, laughing, and narrowly avoided careening backwards into Bede’s chest.

“Hey, hey mum,” he righted himself with a shake of his head. “You’d swear it had been years!”

“Time has no bearing on how delighted I am to see my petal,” Jess cooed. Hop rolled his eyes affectionately and sidled up to Bede to nudge him in the ribs. Bede was blinking rapidly, taken aback by the exchange.

“Apologies for her, I promise she’s not always this embarrassing.” He grinned to ascertain it was a joke as Bede was beginning to appear mildly scandalised, and gestured grandly towards Jess. “Bede, this is my mum, Jess. Mum, this is Bede. Ballonlea Gym Leader and Fairy-type extraordinaire.”

“Well hello there love.” Jess leapt in instantly to take Bede’s free hand in both of her own to shake with such enthusiasm Hop was worried for an instant his gift would be sent to its doom on the cobblestones. “Hannah’s been telling me all about you and what a gentleman you are. How wonderful you’re friends with my Hop too.” She drew back to look him up and down. “And what a gentleman you are indeed! Don’t you look lovely.”

Bede flushed crimson. “Why, thank you Ms. Chapman,” he mumbled. “And thank you so much again for having me on such short notice.” He bent his head in what appeared to be a gesture of humility, but Hop wagered it was in actuality an excuse to break eye contact. He could count the number of times he had seen Bede so flustered on one hand; never in his life would he have been able to guess that being introduced to his own _mother_ would make that list.

“Oh stop it, like I said to Hop earlier, the more the merrier!” Jess beamed and held open the door in invitation. “And please, call me Jess! Anyway, let’s not stand around all night. Come in, come in, have a sit down and help yourselves to drinks. I’m just finishing up in the kitchen.”

Hop came through with Bede close on his heels, and lingered in the hallway as Bede presented the bottle of wine to Jess to a chorus of _‘oh mys’_ and _‘well aren’t you the sweetests!’._ Jess would have been happy to stand around gushing for the evening, Hop was certain, had the high-pitched wail of the smoke alarm in the kitchen not jerked the three of them to attention.

“Oh drat, my sprouts!” Jess whirled on her heel and barrelled towards the kitchen, armed with a damp tea-towel that had been tucked into her apron. “Be with you shortly, there’s wine in the living room!” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared round the corner.

Hop shook his head with a low chuckle. “C’mon, let’s get a drink.” He placed a jovial hand on Bede’s shoulder. Bede, who had been staring after Jess, startled slightly at Hop’s touch.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he replied. He raised a hand to rub the side of his neck. “Sorry. I’m not used to… families, I guess.”

Hop met his wan smile with a grin. “Don’t worry about it, mine is far from the norm. The first time Mum met Gloria as a toddler I think Hannah was afraid she’d accidentally smother her.” He chuckled. “She’s just affectionate. If you’ve met Leon you can see where he gets it from.”

“Right.” Bede visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping. “I see what you mean.”

“Feel like Leon’s gotten more than his fair share of hairdressing bills in the post.” Hop replied with a laugh, turning towards the living room. “Should start a fundraiser or something.”

He was glad when Bede joined in on his laughter as they settled into opposite ends of the couch. Or rather, Hop did – Bede perched precariously on the edge as though worried he would sully the upholstery. Hop let him be, deciding it wise to allow him to acclimatise at his own pace.

“I take it you’re fine with wine?” he asked, pouring into the pair of glasses that had been left alongside the bottle on the end table. Bede nodded mutely, and Hop handed him his glass before sinking back into the cushions on his side.

Outwardly, Hop appeared more than comfortable, but it always took him time to adjust to being in this room in particular. Photos lined the walls and the mantelpiece, as well as every available surface not inhabited by something essential, but none of them contained any pictures of Hop past the age of 5 or 6. They were all either family photos from before Leon had left home at the tender age of 10, or pictures of Leon at various stages of his life kitted out in his Champion garb; there were glossy photoshoots, selfies, sneakily nabbed candids and everything in between. There was not a single one, however, of Hop on his own.

And Hop had made his peace with all of that, mostly. It was Leon that had paved the way to his family having some sort of quality of life. It was because of all that Leon had achieved as Champion of Galar that he had been able to grow up in this quaint community that had welcomed Bede so lovingly; if it hadn’t been for Leon, they would have never been able to make a home at all. It was only right that it was his pictures adorning the walls, a constant reminder they should be grateful and proud.

But it still did sting, a little.

“You have a lovely home.” Bede’s voice snapped Hop out of his burgeoning spiral of self-pity. Internally, he shook himself and sat up a little straighter to take a long sip of wine.

“Thanks,” he replied, forcing a grin. “Sorry, I’ve been really rude, just flopping down on the sofa the moment we arrived in the door.” It still didn’t seem real, having Bede in his childhood home. If the idea had been suggested to him a mere month ago he’d have dismissed it as utterly ludicrous. That was justification enough for his lack of manners, he supposed – it was a lot to adjust to.

Bede hurriedly joined Hop on his feet. “Sounds great.” He met Hop’s smile with a somewhat hesitant one of his own. The look of uncertainty on his face softened Hop’s expression, melted his grin into one more genuine. If it was strange for him, he couldn’t begin to imagine how overwhelming it was for Bede.

“C’mon then, won’t take long.” He led him back into the hall with a laugh, and pointed to the kitchen. “Best leave that till last – woe betide any person who interrupts Mum in dinner preparations. I’ll just give you a spin of the upstairs. There’s the downstairs bathroom, by the way.” He pointed to the door nestled under the stairs. “The most important stop on the tour, obviously.”

Bede chuckled obediently as they headed up the stairs. Hop wondered if he noticed the way his eyes avoided the wall – as with the living room, the space was adorned entirely with pictures of Leon, save for a singular family photo at the very top. It was this one that Bede paused to examine, head tilted with interest. Hop lingered behind him, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm onto the bannister. The photo depicted himself, barely 3 years old, precariously balanced on his mother’s shoulders. His eyes were not on the camera, however, but rather zeroed in on the ice-cream clutched in his chubby little fists. Unfortunately it seemed his intense concentration had counted for naught as most of the ice-cream appeared to have ended up on his face, hands and hair. His mother was in a half-crouch, bent awkwardly so as to support Hop’s weight and also have an arm around Leon’s shoulders. Leon, the star of the show, was beaming from beneath a wide-brimmed black cap and proudly flashing his three badges to the unknown person behind the camera.

“That was back during Leon’s Gym Challenge, when we lived in Motostoke,” Hop explained, unable to bear Bede’s pensive silence. “He’d just beaten Kabu and it was the first time we’d gotten to see him in ages.” He shook his head, affection sparkling in his eyes. “You’d think I would have been all over him, but I obviously only had eyes for one thing.”

Bede laughed quietly, but didn’t take his eyes off the photograph. “I didn’t know you lived in Motostoke before,” he remarked.

“Oh, yeah.” Hop shrugged. “No reason why you would, not that big of a deal. We moved out here once Leon became Champion. S’why Gloria didn’t meet Leon in person until we started our own Challenges – he never was around much.”

“He was very young to have been away from home so much.” Bede turned to regard Hop at last. “It must have been weird for both of you.”

Hop shrugged again and folded his arms behind his head, feigning nonchalance. “I don’t really remember much about life before Leon was Champion. As far I’m concerned he’s been Champion for my entire life.”

Bede held his gaze for a moment, expression unreadable. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak a voice calling from the kitchen snapped them both to attention.

“Boys!” Jess hollered. “Dinner time!”

Hop started back down the stairs, relief lending a lightness to his gait. “The tour can wait.” He grinned over his shoulder. “Let’s eat!”

He was aware of Bede’s eyes tracing the photos that lined the wall as they descended the stairs to head into the kitchen.

***

They didn’t get around to the tour in the end.

Hop enjoyed the weekly occasion more than he ever had; that stemmed, perhaps, from the joy of watching his mother indulge in the novelty of having a guest. Bede, as always around what he perceived as figures of authority, was a paragon of politeness. This allowed Jess to unleash the full force of her hospitality, and at a certain point Hop had to lean over to tactfully whisper to Bede that no, he _didn’t_ have to accept a fourth helping of roast potatoes if he didn’t want to. Much to Jess’s delight, Hop’s advice largely went ignored. More food and drink were consumed that night than would normally be consumed in a week in the Chapman household, and all of them were the better for it.

When they bade goodbye to Jess at the door, their alcohol-reddened faces burning from the warmth of the merriment the atmosphere exuded, she grabbed them both to press exaggerated kisses on both their cheeks. Hop chortled at the manner in which Bede’s skin flushed a shade of crimson reminiscent of a shiny Gyarados as he assured Jess’s vehement requests with a promise that yes, he would be back as soon as he could.

They made their way back up the garden path in a cloud of wine-scented laughter, casting waves over their shoulders at Jess who idled in the doorway until they hit the road. Caught up in this rare moment of camaraderie, their direction was not one in particular; it was not until Hop realised they were in fact going the wrong way that he drew to a halt.

“Geez, we’ll end up in Motostoke at this rate,” he commented with a grin, pausing to lean against one of the stone walls that were thankfully a feature ubiquitous to his region of Galar. Bede tittered and perched beside him, angling his gaze upward. A brisk, dry evening had given way to a fabulously clear night and the stars could be admired in intricate detail, the Milky Way evident in shimmering, silver-grey streaks that gave the night sky the look of a moonlit lake.

“You can see so many stars out here.” Bede’s eyes shone in the weak light cast from the streetlamps. “It’s beautiful.” Hop couldn’t answer for a moment, entirely distracted by the unabashed wonder that seemed to shed years from a face that had for so long, to his knowledge, only contorted in disgust, conceit or anger. Like he had been that time at Magnolia’s, Hop was taken aback by this glimpse of vulnerability. It felt… important, that he was witnessing it.

And Bede never had been the worst to look at, he supposed.

“Yeah,” he replied hastily, when Bede shot him a questioning glance. For safety, Hop turned his own eyes to the sky, heart hammering in his chest as though he had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever wanted to leave here.” And then he would go back to his mother’s house, and remember all over again.

From the corner of his eye, Hop noticed Bede’s brow furrow. The silence stretched on and Hop could see that whatever Bede was about to say, he was choosing his words carefully.

“I… think I understand, though.” Bede spoke at last, slowly, deliberately. “Why… well, why you might have wanted to leave.” He must have perceived the slight downturn of Hop’s mouth, because he continued in a rush. “Not in a bad way, or anything. Just… I mean, I don’t know the details but your family is obviously… really proud of Leon.” He hesitated. “With good reason. But it must have been hard for you, to grow up with a shadow like that looming over you.”

Hop blinked, utterly flummoxed. How was it that he was having this conversation with _Bede_ of all people? “I… well…” he stammered. All of a sudden there was a lump in his throat that he was unable to force his words around. Bede eyed him, concerned.

“Sorry if that was a bit forward.” He smiled sheepishly. “It’s just… when we were doing the Gym Challenge all those years ago, I was really confused by your… motives, I guess.”

Hop pursed his lips, contemplating this. “My motives?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah. It’s hard to explain.” He searched Hop’s eyes, obviously looking for any indicator he might be offended. When he found none, he continued. “What I mean is when I did the Gym Challenge, I… well I did want to do it, at least I thought I did, but I also never really had a choice. Whereas you…” He paused once more to arrange his words. “… I couldn’t fathom why you were so hell-bent on following the path of your brother to the extent you were. I mean, obviously the Champion title is something plenty of children covet, but for you it always seemed… more about your brother, than the title itself. I could never understand that.” He looked away, down at his shoes, aware of the intensity of Hop’s gaze burning into his cheek. “But I understand now. I think.”

For a number of seconds, Hop couldn’t speak. For as long as he had known Bede – or at least, until very recently - he had always assumed Bede had disliked him because Bede disliked everyone he didn’t regard as a stepping stone to something greater. He’d always believed Bede regarded people as means to an end and nothing more because… well, he’d never given pause to think up a reason. He’d always just assumed he was kind of a shitty person, despite Gloria’s insistence otherwise. Never had he considered the possibility that Bede resented him because as far as he was concerned Hop had had a choice, and still, he had allowed his future to be determined by the trajectory of another.

“What, you wondered why the hell I was so unoriginal?” the quip was meant as a joke, but the words were scant of mirth. He was still reeling, unable to get his head around the terrifying ordeal of being known and understood by – again – _Bede_ of all people.

“Sort of, I suppose,” Bede replied, a shadow of a placatory smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t know anything back then, obviously. And I was… a very different person.” The smile faded before it could fully unfurl. “Anyway I… I misunderstood you from the outset and I’m glad… glad that I understand now, is all. Even if I stopped resenting you the way I did before a long time ago.”

Hop took a steadying breath, only now aware of the discombobulating effects of the wine. He was glad of the crisp night air, keeping him sharp in the wake of this avalanche of revelatory conversation. “I…” he shook his head, still speechless. “I would have never guessed.”

Bede shrugged, helplessly. “There’s no way you could have,” was his simple reply. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he grinned. “Probably should have had this conversation years ago, eh?”

Hop laughed. “Yeah, probably.” He was aware the exchange was reaching its natural end, and yet… he wasn’t ready to let it go. There was so much more he wanted to say, to ask: he just needed some time to dredge up the suitable words.

So, for the umpteenth time that night – that _month –_ he found himself uttering a sentence he had never thought he would say.

“D’you wanna come back to mine for a drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Aaand, there we have it! Sincere apologies for the length of time this took – this was very much a segue chapter and not one I was super stoked to write. But I’m excited for the next chapter, so hopefully that won’t take as long! (famous last words, lol. Let’s hope for this side of Christmas.)
> 
> Anyways, just wanna say that I cannot believe I’ve surpassed the 20k word mark, and now have this as 40 pages of a Word doc. I have never stuck to a writing project for this long before, lol. So even if this is just fanfiction (and SUPER self-indulgent at that), I just wanna express that I’m proud of myself and say a HUGE thank you to all the people who are along for the ride and leave lovely comments and Kudos, they really mean the world!  
> As always, feedback appreciated <3 Thanks everyone!


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